A Nanny for Rosie
by FoxxStarr
Summary: Sherlock & John need a nanny after Mary dies. Enter Lyssa Jones, an ordinary woman in an extraordinary situation when she joins the Holmes-Watson household and helps the men raise their amazing little girl. So Far No Slash, eventual pairings. All Set after Season 4. Rated for swearing, potential triggers for violence. And as always I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I know I have another series I'm working on but this one is a one off story that has nothing to do with my Foot Falls Series. I'm really hoping you all like this one. Lyssa is an OC, I'm hoping she doesn't come off as a Mary Sue. Please review and let me know what you think!**

"You're hiding a gambling addiction and owe rather a lot of money to a low level mob enforcer who has recently informed you of his intentions to collect his money or he'll collect a kidney from you. You choose to deal with the stress and anxiety by drinking which is unfortunate seeing as you drove yourself here and I'm afraid we cannot allow you to drive away in your present state. There's a lovely policeman downstairs who will escort you to a comfortable cell and help you deal with your mob problem. Good Day." Sherlock waved the latest Nanny Candidate away and she went tears in her eyes mumbling about bathtubs and ice.

John sighed and scratched the last name off the list. "We've seen dozens Sherlock and not one of them has passed."

Sherlock gave him a mildly sympathetic look then glanced at Rosie who was scooting a toy car along the floor of her playpen and making nonsensical babbling noises. John scrubbed a hand across his face then they both looked around as Mrs Hudson came in and made a happy cooing noise towards Rosie. "Mrs Hudson we have established that making nonverbal noises at her does not help her cognitive development." Sherlock sounded bored.

"Oh shush you. It's not all about cognitive whatevers. Sometimes just hearing a happy noise can do wonders." It was an argument they had frequently ever since John had moved back into 221B Baker Street with Rosie in tow.

Mrs Hudson had been incredibly accommodating and had renovated the flat and opening it into the one next door which had been vacated after the incident with Eurus and her Patient Grenade. John had asked that the kitchens in the newly expanded flat remain as they were. He had explained it to Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock as containment procedure. One kitchen was strictly for Sherlocks experiments and bodyparts. The other was only for the preparation and eating of meals and nair the twain were to meet. He had enforced the rule when one of Sherlock's severed heads had made its way into the food fridge by the simple expedient of destroying the head and the experiment taking place in it. Sherlock had since then kept his toys in his kitchen.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed. "Be that as it may, what ha you up here before John is scheduled to go to the Clinic for the afternoon?"

"Hmm? She had crouched down and was playing patty cake with Rosie. "Oh yes! There's a perfectly lovely lady downstairs here to interview for the position."

"I thought we'd run through all the candidates." John mused looking down at his list.

"We had." Sherlock replied sitting up.

"Shall I send her on?" Mrs Hudson asked standing up.

"No, no, send her up. We'll get to the bottom of why she's here." Sherlock replied.

Mrs Hudson left and a moment later the door opened again and a woman of average height walked in. She was pretty in a sort of average way, dark hair streaked with threads of silver cut in a short sort of messy hairstyle, dark eyes, snub nose and mouth a little too wide. Everything about her screamed average. She was average height, average weight, average looks, she was even dressed average in dark blue jeans, a dark plum cowl necked top and a pair of black trainers. What wasn't average were the tattoos on her arms and the intelligence that sparkled in her dark eyes as she sat in the chair that John motioned to.

She handed John her resume. "Lyssa Jones, 31 years old, American… what are you doing in London?" He asked reading it over quickly then handing it to Sherlock who was watching her.

She gave a little smile. "I got tired of the US." She replied.

"You came here on a work visa as a seamstress but the production company you worked for closed down, financial troubles, rather than go back to the US however you're trying to find work that will allow you to stay." Sherlock said calmly.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Why?"

She frowned a little. "I told you, I got tired of the US. I wanted to live somewhere else for a while. Try something different."

He nodded and stared at her for several minutes while John ran through the usual interview questions. He opened his mouth to speak up when she interjected her own question. "How old is she?"

"Almost 18 months." John replied a little surprised, none of the other candidates had bothered asking any questions, they just answered what was asked.

"She's in the top 20th percentile for her age isn't she?" Lyssa asked getting up and crouching next to the playpen a smile on her face.

"Yes, yes she is. How can you tell?" John asked moving closer.

"She's tall for 18 months, long arms and legs." Lyssa looked up at John.

"How did you find out about this position?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, my old roommate had the advertisement from the service you guys were using. She didn't want to apply but told me to knock myself out." Lyssa was playing peekaboo with Rosie and John looked over at Sherlock who had a slight smile on his face.

"Would you excuse us for just a moment?" Sherlock asked standing up and motioning for John to follow him into the hall.

He partially closed the door and John gave him an expectant look. "Is she the one?" He asked.

"She's the least objectionable and she's taken by far the most interest in Rosie. The others didn't even bother asking questions about her." Sherlock replied.

"What about the tattoos? Does she smoke? What's she hiding?" John asked.

"She's American John, Tattoos are a normality over there, so far the only thing she's hiding is how much she needs the job and how much she doesn't want to go back to the states but she isn't running from anything." Sherlock replied glancing in at Lyssa who was still playing peekaboo with Rosie.

John chewed his lower lip for a second then nodded. "A trial run then."

"The usual 30 days." Sherlock agreed.

They walked back in and John handed Lyssa a file folder. "Just fill these out so we can make sure the taxes get paid and there's a background check but can you start tomorrow? It's a trial run, but if things are still working out in 30 days we'll make it a more permanent arrangement."

She flipped the file open and read over the agreements and her schedule before pulling a pen out of her pocket and started to fill out the forms. "I can start anytime." She replied.

"Good because Lestrade is coming up the stairs and I think you'll need to start now." Sherlock interjected just as the door opened and Lestrade strode in.

"Sherlock it's a 7 at least." He started then stopped seeing Lyssa.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade meet the new Nanny, Lyssa Jones." Sherlock stood up and snagged the file from Lestrade and flipped it open. John shook his head and took the forms when Lyssa had finished them. "Looks like you start today then. I have to be at the clinic in an hour and he's going to be gone until heaven knows when. Let me show you around."

He picked Rosie up out of the playpen and started showing Lyssa where the food, toys and other essentials were kept. "Once the background check comes back we'll get you a key." He finished and started to set Rosie down in the playpen so he could get ready for work.

Lyssa held her arms out and he transferred his daughter to her with only a slight hesitation, she smiled reassuringly as she propped Rosie on a hip. "She's in good hands Mr Watson."

"Call me John." He said and kissed Rosies head while he dragged his coat on and hurried to the door. "Bye bye Rosie! Be good for Ms Lyssa."

Rosie made a anxious noise but Lyssa smiled and did a little dance. "There there sweetie. Daddy will be back in no time. But for now Ms Lyssa is going to get to know you."

Sherlock watched her while Lestrade rambled on, he'd never admit it aloud but having a complete stranger watching Rosie made him anxious. But Molly couldn't keep juggling work and babysitting and a life and Mrs. Hudson was slowing down a lot as well. John had flatly refused to let Sherlock take the child on cases which meant they needed someone full time. Lyssa was totally fixated on Rosie singing softly and dancing to occupy the child during the separation anxiety phase of her father leaving. "Sherlock." Lestrade brought his attention back to the cae. "Are you coming or not?"

"Yes. Let me apprise the Nanny." He muttered and turned to his desk picking up a three ring binder.

"Lyssa, I have to be going out. John and I compiled Rosies routine and what she is and isn't permitted for you so there is minimal guessing. Please read it thoroughly." He wrapped his scarf around his neck and kissed Rosie on the head before sweeping out ahead of Lestrade.

"Good Luck." Lestrade said as he closed the door.

Lyssa smiled and tickled Rosie before sitting down on the floor and opening the binder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey sorry for the uber short chapter. Its kinda a filler bit. Please review and let me know what you think!**

Lyssa made it through her 30 day trial period without a hitch and Sherlock and John soon found her to be indispensable but it wasn't until six weeks later when she responded to Sherlock's urgent call at 2am that they realized just how indispensable she had become to them. "The game is afoot and Rosie needs you." He'd said and without a question she had gotten up and rushed over to watch Johns daughter so he and John could chase down a psychopath.

They dragged themselves back to the flat at 8am that morning and found Lyssa and Rosie singing the ABC's while Lyssa swept the floor and Rosie played with the remains of her breakfast. Only Lyssa's version of the ABC's made them both stop in their tracks. "A is for Alumn, B is for Borax, C is for Chromium, D is for…" Rosie stopped singing and squealed happily when she saw her father. "Dadda!"

Lyssa grinned and turned to see them. "Thats right Rosie."

"You're teacher her the periodic table of elements with her alphabet?" Sherlock said a little surprised.

"Well why not? She's a bright girl." Lyssa let Rosie down and she ran to her father.

"Move in with us." Sherlock said seriously.

Lyssa laughed and set the broom aside. "No I'm serious. We cannot keep dragging you from your home across town at 2am, you already clean our flat, fix our meals and watch our girl. Move in with us and we'll up your salary." John said standing up with Rosie.

She stared at him then smiled. "Well alright. If you insist."

"We do." They said in unison.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! I hope you've enjoyed Lyssa as much as I have. I haven't decided if I want to keep this one going, let me know what you think, please be constructive!**

Lyssa fell into a routine after that. Her days were spent looking after John, Sherlock and Rosie, she joked to Mrs Hudson she had three charges not one but she was coming to love them all. Sherlock spent hours quizzing her on her background but she was ordinary, he'd had Mycroft run her background of course but there was nothing unusual. She came from a small family, who lived in a small town in the northern United States. She was a good student but never attended college, she was intelligent but nothing extraordinary, all around she was ordinary and according to Mycroft boring. Sherlock ignored his brother on that point. Lyssa had an ordinary background but she wasn't boring, no more so than John as boring. She had a quick wit, asked intelligent questions and actually seemed to learn from the answers and she seemed to accept Sherlock and his peculiarities. Most importantly to John's mind however was her devotion to Rosie, she did her absolute best for the girl and both men had been gratified at her suggestions for Rosies development. She was creative in the games she played with the child and genuinely loved doting on the girl.

If she had a fault Sherlock surmised it was that she was so ordinary. She had few bad habits, the most distressing of which was her tendency to come home with new tattoos on a fairly regular basis, and dyed her hair an array of strange colors, never anything inappropriate but John wondered what people must think of their tattooed, rainbow haired Nanny. She occasionally smoked but only outdoors after Rosie was in bed and usually only when she was scared for Sherlock or John on a particularly bad case. And she swore when she got angry, it wasn't often but she had sworn a blue streak at Sherlock when he started firing a gun in the house while Rosie was still in her room. John had nearly pissed himself laughing at the sight of Lyssa, a good six inches shorter than Sherlock with peacock blue hair on tip toes swearing as she lectured him on the dangers of unprotected hearing and gunshots. Sherlock had grudgingly promised to warn her ahead of time if he was going to discharge a firearm indoors and had bought everyone protective ear guards.

John was just glad that there was another person in all the world who could handle Sherlock at his most deranged. He'd worried that she'd bolt the first time after she moved in and woke to find Sherlock dissecting a cat on the table in his kitchen. She'd paled a little but had simply turned and picked Rosie up taking her for a walk in the park until she was sure he was done.

They were always careful to keep her and Rosie away from the cases they worked, to keep the bad guys away from Rosie and Lyssa but inevitably the bad guys found them. About six months in Sherlock received a phone call that shook him to the core. He and John were out on a case following a lead when Johns phone rang. They were staking out a drug den waiting for the suspect to leave so they could follow him back to his headquarters when the call came in "Yeah Lestrade what's up?"

Sherlock kept watching the building while John turned to take the call but he heard Lestrade through the speaker. "Lyssa is in the Hospital."

Sherlocks head whipped around his eyes going wide. "Is she alright? Where's Rosie?" John croaked.

"She's with Molly. Lyssa is pretty hurt." Lestrade sounded worried and Sherlock broke cover and turned away from the drug den headed towards the main street already trying to hail a cab. John hurried to catch up with him. "What happened?" He asked Lestrade.

"She had Rosie at the playground, witnesses say she was approached by a couple of thugs who started asking her questions. She refused to answer and tried to eave. They tried to take Rosie from her and according to an eye witness she went ballistic. The thugs took her down and took it in turns to kick the shit out of her but a good samaritan rushed in and ran them off, she wouldn't let go of Rosie though until Molly came up to take her."

They were in a cab and Sherlock gave the driver an extra fifty quid to ignore traffic laws. When they got to St Barts they ran through the halls until they found the ward Lyssa was being treated in. They could hear Rosie crying inconsolably and Molly trying her best to calm her, when they rounded the bend John already had his arms out and Rosie all but jumped into his arms from Molly's. Molly looked relieved and scared. "She… She's not good." She said and hugged herself.

Sherlock carefully wrapped an arm around her and gave her a small squeeze before he turned to the hospital room door and walked in. Lestrade was sitting in a chair by the bed pen and pad in hand but ignored. Lyssa lay in the bed a mass of bruises. Sherlock's mind catalogued every single cut, bruise and scrape as he moved closer. One eye was swollen shut, her lips were bruised and split and she was hooked up to IV's, monitors and there were even brain scans showing on one of the screens. Sherlock felt a little sick as he heard John discussing her injuries with the Doctor in charge.

Lestrade stood up and gave Sherlock a sympathetic look. "I have some new intel on her attackers. They belong to a drug ring you took down a few months ago."

"Sherlock gave him a sharp look. "I thought they all got swept up."

Lestrade sighed. "The lower level thugs all got swept up and carted off to jail, the higher ups made bail and skipped town."

Sherlock growled and started pacing suppressing the urge to hit something. "What exactly is the point of my finding these useless wastes of oxygen if they are allowed to roam free and physically abuse my God Daughters Nanny?!" He yelled.

John opened the door and walked in with said God Daughter who had her head laid on her father's shoulder thumb in her mouth. Sherlock felt a tremor run through him, Lyssa had almost gotten her free of that habit but she still sucked her thumb when she was extremely upset. "Sherlock…"

"No John this is unacceptable. Look what they have done to her." He pointed at Lyssa who looked tiny and fragile in the hospital bed.

"I see her and we will find them but you're scaring Rosie and she needs you right now." John said soothingly.

Rosie obliged by sitting up and reaching for Sherlock who took her and gently tugged her thumb from her mouth. "Now Rosie Ms Lyssa doesn't like when you do that." He said gently.

She whimpered but left her thumb out of her mouth and cuddled against him while he rubbed her back. John walked over and gently touched Lyssas hand. "The Doctor says she's in a medically induced coma, there's swelling in her brain from the beating."

Sherlock forced himself to remain relaxed knowing if he got tense it would transfer to Rosie. "Where are they Lestrade?" He asked.

"We aren't sure." Lestrade admitted.

Sherlock took several deep breaths to stay calm but Rosie sensed his anger and started whimpering. John came over and took her back, he was furious as well of course but at the moment he had detached himself from the anger and emotion, the way he did when he was working in the clinic. "Sherlock, go. Go find them, I'll stay here with our girls."

Sherlock nodded and turned on his heel, Lestrade hurried after him and John sat down in the chair beside Lyssa's bed.

When Sherlock returned he had a black eye and split knuckles but he was grinning fiercely as he stalked over to Lyssa's bed and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. John winced a little remembering what he'd done to the CIA agent who'd hurt Mrs. Hudson.

It took Lyssa three weeks to recover enough to come home and another week before she was in any kind of shape to look after Rosie. Rosie for her part woke frequently with night terrors that left Sherlock and John exhausted and concerned until Lyssa started taking the girl to bed with her. "It's not a long term thing." She explained when Sherlock raised concerns about the arrangement. "She saw me get the shit beat out of me. She's scared and doesn't have the experience to deal with the fear." Sherlock had to concede the point and John got Rosie into therapy that week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well so far no reviews but I'm gonna keep this going anyway. I'm having fun imagining what kind of oddball life these four are having.**

Several weeks later John came back from a long frustrating day at the clinic to find Sherlock lying on the couch with Rosie, both were totally engrossed in a documentary on the telly and John took a moment to stare with fond incredulity at the scene. It was a documentary about howler monkeys of all things, he glanced around to see Lyssa in the kitchen stirring something in a tall pot, when he crept into the kitchen she glanced at him and smiled holding out the spoon of spaghetti sauce for him to taste. He made an appreciative noise and she grinned turning back to the sauce. He'd noticed that they all ate better after Lyssa moved in with them, she insisted on a healthy diet and was always trying new recipes.

"So how long have they been engrossed?" He asked leaning against the counter.

Lyssa turned on the electric kettle and smiled. "For about two hours. Rosie was watching it and Sherlock started to complain but stopped when she crawled into his lap. Her words are really coming along."

He nodded and watched his towheaded baby girl laying with Sherlock engrossed by the animals. "She looks like her mother." He murmured.

Lyssa gave him a sympathetic look and pulled out the tea leaves. "She's been gone what? A year now?"

He nodded watching his best friend and his daughter. Lyssa put a lid on the sauce and leaned against the counter with him. She hesitated for a moment before hooking an arm around his waist, he froze but when she just leaned there her arm around his waist he relaxed. "She's everything good and wonderful about you and your wife you know. She's smart and cheerful and adores you and Sherlock. Molly told me a little about Mary and it sounds like Mary adored you and Sherlock too. It's not a bad place to start."

They stood and watched the detective and the toddler until the documentary ended and Lyssa moved away to lean over the back of the couch, she snagged the remote and turned the telly off. "Ok little miss. Daddy has been home for nearly half an hour and he missed his girl." Rosie perked up and climbed off Sherlock running to John.

"Daddy!" She squealed throwing her arms around his legs and looking up at him with a bright smile.

"Hello there darling, did you have a good day?" John asked scooping her up and listening to her explain all about howler monkeys.

Sherlock looked up at Lyssa where she was still draped over the couch watching John and Rosie the remote hanging loose in her fingers. Her hair was in a sloppy braid that hung over her shoulder and he reached up touching the end which had been tied with a twist tie from the bag of bread. She glanced down at him and smiled. He smiled back before sitting up and heading back to his kitchen to finish the experiment he'd abandoned in favor of cuddling with his god daughter.

Lyssa watched him settle back behind his microscope then looked over at John who was asking Rosie about different monkeys and smiled standing in the living room, halfway between two opposing forces that couldn't manage without each other, she felt a small pang of something in her chest but she shook it off and went to make the tea.


	5. Chapter 5

**I figured I'd take a stab at how Sherlock might react to Rosie going to school, at least Preschool. Sorry if Sherlock seems a little OOC. As always please review!**

John couldn't pinpoint when or how things started to change, he thought it had started after Lyssa had wound up in the hospital but maybe it had begun earlier. He and Sherlock had begun to depend on Lyssa for more than just the care of Rosie. She did everything, cooked, cleaned, did the shopping and John realized when he got a call from the utility company about the credit on his account, made sure the bills got paid on time. She was even screening preschools for Rosie now that the girl was almost three and had finally finished potty training. The year had gone by so fast. They'd managed to keep Lyssa out of any further harm and she'd been much more careful about keeping herself and Rosie out of harm's way. John was mulling over a conversation he and Sherlock had had the night before while Lyssa was out to the cinema. Sherlock was getting consultation requests from other countries now and he wanted to take them but he had so far said no because he didn't want to leave John behind and he didn't think John would want to leave Rosie behind.

John was wandering aimlessly around the flat looking at the pictures that Lyssa had put up everywhere, pictures of John, of Sherlock, of Rosie and every conceivable combination in between but there were very few pictures of Lyssa. She was always the one taking pictures and making sure they got framed and hung. He knew there were albums filled with them somewhere too. He had come home to an empty house and a note on the whiteboard she'd hung by the door saying that Sherlock was at St Barts and she was out with Rosie looking at a preschool. She'd signed it with a little butterfly and he smiled. He found himself doing that a lot in the last year. Smiling at little things that Lyssa did.

He sat in his favorite chair and pulled his laptop onto his lap opening it and started to catch up on his blog, there were a backlog of cases to write up, between his shifts at the clinic and the number of cases they were working he hadn't been keeping up with the blogging. A few hours later he heard noise on the stairs and listened hearing Lyssa's quiet alto and Sherlocks richer baritone but there was tension in it. He frowned as the door opened and Lyssa walked in holding Rosies hand her eyes stormy and Sherlock following behind her his own blue eyes sharp and angry. Rosie ran to her father her face worried and she buried her face against his knees as Lyssa set the backpack she carried in lieu of a diaper bag or purse on a chair and stripped off her coat.

"This is not the end of the conversation." Sherlock snapped and John raised his eyebrows; Sherlock rarely snapped at Lyssa.

"If it was a conversation you'd be right but that's not what we were having Sherlock. And right now I need to stop ok? I need to make dinner and get Rosie a bath and…" She stopped and groaned thunking herself lightly on the forehead. "And I forgot to pick up the meat for dinner."

John stood up picking Rosie up though she was really getting too big for that now. "Why don't you run and get the meat, I'll start the rice." She'd started a menu so he'd know what to expect when he got home for meals and she's taught him how to make rice, tonight was a casserole she'd found online that needed three cups of cooked rice.

"Thank you John. I'll be back in half an hour." She gave him a grateful look and fished her wallet out of the backpack before rushing down the stairs in a clatter.

John waited until he was sure she was gone before setting Rosie down and telling her to go play before turning to Sherlock. "So…"

Sherlock's temper was waning and he sighed. "Honestly John all those schools she's taking Rosie to are total rubbish. Can't they see she's progressed well beyond the tripe they're teaching?"

John gave him a fond look. "I've told you, Rosie going to preschool isn't for education, its for socialization."

"Why does she need socialization?!" Sherlock asked throwing his hands up. "She has plenty of socialization already, she's got you,Lyssa, Myself, Molly, Lestrade…" He kept listing people as he stomped around the sitting room.

"All of those are adults. She needs to learn to get along with people her own age too." John replied.

"For how long? Trust me John with as intelligent as Rosie is she will advance well beyond those dim little fools in her age group and they will be abominable to her." Sherlock picked up his violin and played a discordant note.

John thought he was starting to see the issue at hand and sat in his chair. ""Oh I'm sure. She's very advanced for her age."

"Advanced, John she can already read, admittedly it's a little rudimentary. Where did Lyssa find that dross, See Spot Run… Hop on Pop. Nonsense." Sherlock made another ear wrenching noise on the violin.

"Mmm, and she does seem to enjoy that Jr. Chemistry set that you got her, even if Lyssa did take all the caustic stuff out of it." John was watching Sherlock. "She's sure to be teased for that."

Sherlocks shoulders were so tight John was surprised they didn't snap like an over tightened violin string. John crossed his legs and leaned back. "And she has an unconventional living situation, I mean two men and a woman… that's sure to get a few tongues going."

Sherlock spun around his eyes blazing. "And tell me John why is that a good thing? I dealt with that for years, children are horrifying in the sick games they can play with one another, the evil things they can say to one another. Why would you want that for our daughter?!"

He stopped abruptly and John felt like the room tilted sideways a little before coming back to center. "I'm sorry...John…" Sherlock gasped and all but dropped his violin as he ran to his room closing the door with a snap.

'Our daughter…" John mused and turned his head to watch Rosie who was using a set of magnets that Lyssa had made for her on the fridge.

The magnets were pictures of different animals, plants and tools and matched a chart of words pinned to the fridge. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd found Sherlock sitting on the floor with Rosie and those magnets, or Sherlock and Rosie sitting on the floor while he read to her from an anatomical textbook. He thought back to a moment just a week ago when Rosie had woken with one of those mystery stomach bugs children seemed to get at random and she'd cried for Sherlock only settling into a fevered sleep on the couch when he played her favorite song on the violin. Rosie was just as much Sherlock's daughter as his and Mary's. He stood and was about to walk to Sherlock's door when Lyssa opened the door and walked in with a plastic bag from Tescos and he realized he'd forgotten to start the rice.

He started to apologize and she shook her head. "It's fine. He's in his room I take it?"

He nodded and she gave a small sigh before turning to the cabinets and started pulling out the pots she needed. "I'll apologize to him after dinner, I shouldn't have said anything, can you let him know dinner will be ready in an hour so please don't get sucked into an experiment."

He felt a little torn but after a moment he walked to Sherlock's door and knocked. When he got no answer he carefully opened the door. Sherlock was sitting on his bed knees drawn up his hands buried in his curls. John walked in and closed the door and tried to decide where to start, as usual Sherlock best him to it. "I'm sorry John, I didn't… I know Rosie isn't my daughter. I would never try to take Mary's place as her parent…" John put a hand on Sherlock's arm and the younger man stopped short.

"It's alright Sherlock. I mean that, it really is. You have been as much a father to her as I have. You teach her, you dote on her, you've made drastic changes to your life to accommodate her needs including letting someone we barely knew move in to help. And now you're worried about her emotional well being. Sherlock, you are her father and I couldn't be happier about it."

Sherlock blinked up at him and John watched the reassurance heal something in his friend, something he hadn't even known was cracked. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his hands. "I know you're worried that Rosie will be treated the way you were as a child but she's got something you didn't. She's got two fathers who will understand her and her needs and intellectual capacity. She'll have Molly and Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson who are already used to your little foibles and will be able to handle any of hers. And she'll have Donovan and Anderson to taunt and belittle just like you do."

"And she'll have Lyssa." Sherlock added.

"And Lyssa." John repeated. "Lyssa who always seems to know what we all need and goes out of her way to make it happen. You know she's planning to apologise to you after dinner."

"What? Why?" Sherlock looked baffled.

"Because she feels that it's not her place to argue with you about Rosie's future I think. You'll have to ask her to be certain though."

Sherlock stood up abruptly. "Thats absurd, she's got as much right as anyone, more I 's put everything into the care of our girl. I just don't want to see Rosie hurt…" He sagged back onto the bed hands going back to his hair.

John smiled and patted his shoulder. "She doesn't want to see Rosie hurt either, that's why she's gone to no less than ten preschools trying to find the right one. But she does have a point Sherlock. Rosie does need to be around other children, she'll always have us and we'll always protect her but she will eventually need to interact with her own age group."

They sat in comfortable silence lost in their own thoughts until Lyssa called them to dinner. She sat quietly at her place eating in silence her thoughts consuming her until Sherlock broke the silence. "Thank you Lyssa."

She looked up confused. "Hmm? For what?"

"For everything. The way you always take care of our little family and the way you never try to clean my way you raise our daughter," He was enjoying being able to express a sentiment he'd kept to himself for a long time. "You've made her needs more important than anything else and I am sorry I lost my temper earlier. I was bullied terribly as a child and in some part it shaped who I am now. I never wanted her to have to hurt like that."

Lyssa set her fork down and clasped her hands in her lap fiddling with one of her rings. "I don't want her hurt either but she needs the interaction. She's a very personable child, every time we go to the park she can't wait to play with the other children, sometimes she cries when we leave…" She smiled at Rosie. "You like playing with the other kids don't you sweetie?"

"Play at the park?" Rosie perked up.

"Sorry honey, it's too late, in the morning ok?" Lyssa asked.

Rosie pouted but went back to laboriously feeding herself. Sherlock nodded. "I've come to understand that and I would like to review your findings if you don't mind after dinner."

Lyssa hesitated and John reached over and patted her shoulder. "If you're thinking it's not your place to help make decisions for our girl you're wrong. We need you Lyssa, we need your help, we always have."

She smiled a little and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'll be here as long as you want me here."

They eventually settled on a smaller preschool halfway across London with a fantastic program. Lyssa helped Sherlock and John fill out the paperwork and she started taking Rosie to school three days a week. Rosie started calling Sherlock papa when John started referring to him that way but Lyssa put a stop to the girl calling her mommy and was grateful that neither of the men had heard the girl call her that.

The first parent teacher meeting was interesting to say the least.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Sorry for how infrequently this gets updated. I'm out of town a lot. This has turned into a series of little blurbs about the life of John, Sherlock, Rosie and the nanny Lyssa. I'm really hoping you like it so far. Please feel free to leave a review. These do leap ahead by months and in some cases they'll leap ahead by years as I come up with them.**

Lyssa set Rosies school bag down on the side table and helped the girl out of her coat while Rosie chattered on about her day. Preschool was going well for her and she was advancing quickly. "An then I got a gold star cause I put all the letters up on the board!" She squealed happily and Lyssa was grateful that preschool had helped her with her speech. She was nearly four now, her birthday would be in less than a month and Lyssa had her hands full trying to set up the party.

Her phone rang and she fished it out glancing at the number, it was a blocked number so she ignored it and made Rosie a snack while she pulled the meat out of the freezer for dinner. The phone rang again and she checked, the number was still blocked and she sighed. She'd started ignoring blocked numbers when she started getting calls for Sherlock about cases. 'I am your nanny not your secretary.' She had said.

Rosie played with her animal crackers and held up a giraffe. "Lyssa, papa tolded me the latin name for g'raffes… Giraffa camelopardalis." She sounded the latin name out very carefully and beamed at Lyssa who grinned and kissed her on the top of the head.

"That's very good Rosie! When did he teach you that?"

"Last night at bed time… he made me say it over and over and over and over and over and…" Rosie kept repeating the words while Lyssa laughed and put the kettle on to boil.

She knew the boys were out on a case and might not be home until late but after the second week of Rosie going to bed without having seen either of her fathers Lyssa had demanded that they at least stop by the flat to say good night before dashing back off on the case. She'd used every weapon in her arsenal to convince them but it was Rosie who had finally made the difference when she'd seen them headed out again and sat down on the stairs and cried. After that they had agreed to come home every night to put Rosie to bed before heading back out into the night after criminals. That had been months ago and Rosie was doing better than ever for it.

Lyssa heard someone coming up the stairs but it wasn't one of the boys, she knew their steps. "Rosie, please go into the pantry."

Rosie jumped out of her seat and dashed into the pantry closing the door behind her while Lyssa grabbed the heaviest frying pan they owned and moved to stand behind the wall that separated the kitchen and the sitting room. She'd gotten very cautious after an obsessed stalker became homicidal and broke into the flat. She'd tried to kill John and Lyssa before Sherlock incapacitated her and Lestrade took her away. After that Lyssa had taught Rosie to hide in the Pantry when there might be a threat. Someone knocked on the door and Lyssa relaxed. It was Lestrades knock and she put the frying pan down. "Rosie, you can come out it's Lestrade."

Rosie jumped out of the pantry and ran to the door stretching up to unlock the bolt. Lyssa lifted her up so she could and opened the door. "You must have gotten new shoes Lestrade I didn't…" She stopped seeing the ashen look on his face. "Greg what's wrong?"

"Can I come in?"

She stepped back and let him in still holding Rosie. "What's happened?"

Lestrade guided her to the couch and sat her down. "Lyssa… Sherlock and John were on a case… I'm sure you know as much. They were closing in on the main suspect when they were… set up. They were shot Lyssa, they're both in surgery. It's bad Lyssa."

Lyssa sucked in a breath and tried to stay calm for Rosie, Rosie was having none of it though. "What does shot mean Lyssa? Why are you sad and scared?"

Lyssa took a few deep breaths and blinked fast. "It… it means they are hurt very badly Rosie. Remember when you got that burn on your hand… and we had to go to the Hospital, it's… it's…" She swallowed hard and Rosie looked up at her her own face crumbling into fear and tears.

Lestrade felt his heart go out to Lyssa. She'd been Rosies nanny for nearly three years, she'd been living with John and Sherlock for nearly three years and was the closest thing to a mother Rosie had. It was obvious to everyone that she cared about all three and she did her absolute best to make sure all of them had what they needed to do what they did best. He watched Lyssa struggle to keep herself together and comfort Rosie who didn't understand what was happening but knew her nanny was terrified and upset. Lyssa cradled the girl and rubbed her back trying to sooth her tears while she worked on her own composure. "I need to… I… Lestrade… what do I do?" She felt helpless.

He awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Let's get Rosie calmed down first then we'll go to St Barts and get a status."

Lyssa nodded and stood up cuddling Rosie while she paced back and forth singing softly. When Rosie stopped crying and went to suck her thumb Lyssa tugged her hand away from her mouth. "Ah ah, remember what Daddy says about that?"

"My thumb has more germs than the potty." Rosie said dutifully.

"And?" Lyssa prompted.

"If I won't lick the potty I won't suck my thumb." Rosie finished and rubbed her thumb on her shirt.

"Good girl." Lyssa kissed her cheek then set her down. "Go change your dress, we're going out."

Rosie scampered to her room and closed the door. Lyssa slumped down on the couch and looked at Lestrade. "Be honest with me Lestrade, how bad is it?"

He sighed and rubbed his chin. "If they make it through surgery they'll be in recovery for weeks."

Lyssa stood up and started rummaging in cupboards. Lestrade watched her pull out a duffle bag which she began putting items in seemingly at random. Johns laptop, Sherlock's laptop, a thick book of crossword puzzles, several file folders and a wooden box. Rosie came out of her room in a blue frock with green leggings and a pair of blue trainers, Lyssa looked over and gave her a reassuring smile. "Good girl, can you grab those two stuffed bears Daddy and Papa gave you?"

Rosie went back and retrieved the toys and gave them to Lyssa. "Let's go see Daddy and Papa."

Lestrade drove them to St Barts and ushered them up to the ICU. Molly met them and hugged Rosie. "They just came out of surgery. They won't wake up for hours yet."

Lyssa nodded. "Can we go in, just for a minute?"

Molly nodded and led them in ignoring the protests of the ICU doctor. Lyssa pulled the bears out and gave them to Rosie. "Go put a bear in the bed with them Rosie. Daddy and Papa are sleeping for a while and they need their bears."

Rosie took the bears and hurried to each bed. She put the bears in with her fathers tucking them in carefully while Lyssa and Molly watched. When that was done Lyssa took her hand and went out to talk to the Doctor. He informed her that she was listed as next of kin for both men. "I have to be honest Ms Jones, we don't know if they're going to wake. The injuries were very severe and there was a great deal of blood loss. That they survived surgery is a miracle."

Lyssa held Rosies hand and looked into the room then back at the Doctor. "They'll come around." She said firmly.

He gave her a sympathetic look but let her believe whatever she needed to in that moment. "They'll be moved out of ICU once they're stable and you and their daughter can visit at any time but it's important that you understand that if they do recover it will be a long difficult process. It's best to keep to your usual schedule in cases like this."

She nodded. "I will take that under advisement. Can we go in and say good night?"

He nodded and she took Rosie in. "Daddy and Papa have to stay here tonight baby. Give them a kiss good night."

Rosie gave them each a kiss and whispered good night. Lyssa leaned in and whispered in their ears. "Don't give up. Rosie needs her fathers."

For the next month Rosie and Lyssa visited them in the Hospital every night, Rosie would tell the two comatose men how her day went and they would read a bedtime story to them before they went home. And every night Lyssa would whisper in their ears that their little girl needed them.

The day of Rosies birthday Lyssa kept her out of school, she packed up the cake, presents and decorations taking them to the hospital. She got Molly to keep Rosie busy and decorated the hospital room talking to John and Sherlock the whole time. Lestrade showed up and helped her get everything set up them Mrs. Hudson arrived and helped her get the cake and presents ready. Some of the hospital staff came by as well, Lyssa and Rosie had become fixtures at the hospital and everyone loved Rosie. When Molly brought Rosie back up she was overjoyed at her little surprise party. Everyone had cake and she opened presents bought for her by her fathers months ago. Her fourth birthday was an unusual one but she didn't seem to mind and when the party wound down Molly took her to the park while Lyssa cleaned up the room. She finally finished the packing up and was sitting between the beds when it all caught up to her. She rested her head in her hands and cried wondering how on earth she was going to keep this up. "I can't…" She said softly. "Rosie misses you both so much and I miss you, it's been a month and she's grown so much. I've had to replace all her clothes… and she's been learning to read so she can read to you. She's been so brave but sometimes at night she cries for you both. And she's been sleeping with me some nights. Her therapist says it's normal."

She reached out with both hands and gently took one of theirs while she spoke. "She's been so brave, she tries so hard to be the daughter she thinks you want her to be and she keeps asking when you'll wake up. Sherlock you'd be so proud of her, she solved a crime at school last week. Well a crime as far as preschoolers are concerned. She figured out which kid was stealing other childrens lunches. And John, she used her very own little medical kit to fix up a playmates skinned knee."

She sat there for a few moments in silence holding their hands before clearing her throat. "I don't know how to do this… Rosie is an amazing child and I love her but I don't know how to raise her… not the way you want me to and Mycroft called and said you guys left papers leaving her to me if anything happens to you, either of you and I… I…" She swallowed hard and tried not to cry again. "Please don't leave us… please… I love Rosie and I love you both and I can't do this alone."

She stood up and started to leave when there was a pressure on her hands. She looked down and saw John looking up at her. The room spun a little and she glanced down to her other side to see Sherlock looking up at her with his pale blue eyes only barely hazed by long coma. She wobbled and the room went black, when she came to Molly was blotting her forehead and giving her a worried look, she tried to sit up but Molly kept her down. "Just stay put Lyssa… you hit your head when you fainted."

"They woke up." Lyssa mumbled.

"They did. Isn't it wonderful?" Molly smiled.

"I was scared they'd never wake up." Lyssa closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, she opened them again and looked at Molly. "Does Rosie know?"

"She's in there with them now." Molly replied.

Lyssa rubbed her face with her hands and Molly patted her shoulder. "It's ok Lyssa."

"I know... " Lyssa mumbled and Molly leaned in to hear her better.

"Mycroft did what?" She asked only making out a handful of words.

"He told me that they left Rosie to me if they…" Lyssa said.

"Well of course they would. You love that girl and she adores you. Who else could give her all the love and understanding she needs?" Molly helped her sit up and Lyssa grabbed her hands.

Molly gave her a kind smile and patted her back while she had quiet hysterics, all the stress and worry of the last month making its way out of her system. When she had calmed down Molly let her get up and she washed her face before walking to the room with a smile on her face. She stopped in the doorway and watched the three figures in the room. Someone had shoved the beds together and Rosie was sitting between her fathers talking animatedly while both men listened and added commentary where necessary. She tapped on the door and Rosie looked up and grinned bouncing a little. "Lyssa! Daddy and Papa are awake!"

Lyssa smiled and walked closer. "I see that sweetie. And I bet they are so happy to see you. Did you tell them all about your party?"

Rosie nodded. "I told them all about the cake and the presents and school and…"

Lyssa smiled and let her babble, her eyes took in Sherlock and John, they were weak but awake, both thinner than before but she was relieved that they were finally back. John managed to get Rosie to calm down. "Rosie, we need to have a grown up talk with Lyssa, can you go find Molly for us?"

Rosie nodded and clambered off the bed and ran out of the room calling for Molly. Lyssa stood her hands twisting together when Sherlock cleared his throat. "We heard you before you fainted."

John smiled at her gently. "There's no one we'd rather have raise Rosie. You're her mother, in every way that counts."

Lyssa sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Thank you."

"We mean every word of it." John said kindly.

Sherlock nodded. "You are a capable woman, a kind and loving caretaker and we would be lost without you. It's not our intent to overwhelm you, we are entrusting our most precious treasure to your keeping should anything happen to us."

Lyssa wiped her eyes again and moved forward taking their hands. "Thank you both."

When Rosie came back in with Molly Lyssa was filling them in on what they'd missed in the last month. By the time visiting hours were over it felt like the last month was just a bad dream. Lyssa carried a sleeping Rosie out to the cab her heart lighter feeling as though an enormous weight was finally off her chest.

She put Rosie to bed tucking the child in and kissing her forehead. "Sleep well sweetheart, daddy and papa will be home before you know it."

It was another three weeks before either man was able to come home but it was the shortest three weeks in all of history.


	7. Chapter 7

Rosie was in kindergarten when the bullying began. Lyssa and John had spent weeks looking at primary schools trying to pick one with excellent academic standards as well as good extracurriculars. Sherlock had suggested sending her to a private school but John had insisted she attend a public school until Middle School. When Rosie started going to school all day Lyssa had thought her role would be reduced but both John and Sherlock had been quick to reassure her that she was still a full time member of the household, she did start working on her own hobbies however to fill the extra time. She was at the curb every day at 2pm waiting for Rosies bus and every day Rosie would fly off the bus bursting with all the new things she'd learned and done that day. Every day except this one.

Lyssa watched Rosie climb down the steps and walk to her so subdued that Lyssa hurried forward worried that the child was sick. "Rosie?" She asked softly crouching down to get a better look. "Are you feeling ok?"

Rosie nodded and tucked her small hand into Lyssa's. Lyssa gave her a concerned look but walked up the stairs to the flat with her and set out a snack, Rosie perked up fairly quickly and chattered happily about her class and what she'd learned that day. Lyssa brushed her worries aside and passed the evening with Rosie, John and Sherlock. But when Rosie returned from school the next day and the day after with the same subdued attitude she started to worry for real. She tried getting it out of Rosie but the girl kept insisting that she was fine and she always perked up quickly after returning home. Lyssa wondered if it might be low blood sugar and started sending her to school with bigger lunches hoping that it was just fatigue from a long day.

About four months into the school year Sherlock and John ended up taking a case in France and were gone for several days when it all came to a head, Lyssa watched the bus pull up and Rosie trudged down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Lyssa felt her stomach drop at just how beaten down the little girl looked but what clinched it for her was when Rosie rushed into her arms and started crying. Lyssa knelt on the sidewalk and looked the girl over with her heart pounding in her ears at the bruise on her chin and the patch of hair behind her ear where a hank of hair had been yanked out. She picked Rosie up and carried her upstairs where she checked Rosie over for other marks. "Rosie, who did this?" She asked but Rosie simply shook her head and refused to answer.

Lyssa called the school and asked to speak to Rosie teacher who denied any such injuries while the girl was in class, Lyssa tried the headmaster and was given the same answer, she called the bus driver and was again given the same answer. Rosie was sitting at the table picking at her food and Lyssa felt a sense of helplessness at the beaten look on the girls face. After thinking how she wanted to handle the situation Lyssa decided to take Sherlocks favorite tactic with the girl and speak to her as if she were much older. Rosie liked that her papa treated her like a big girl so Lyssa fixed two cups of tea and set one down in front of her before sitting across from her. "Rosie. Can we talk?" She asked reasonably.

Rosie bit her lower lip then nodded and picked up her cup of tea. Lyssa took a sip of her tea before she started. "You have been in kindergarten for nearly five months now. Do you like school?"

Rosie nodded enthusiastically. "I love school. I learn lots and lots and my teachers let me read anything on the shelf and I get lots of answers right. And I get to take care of the turtle every day."

Lyssa smiled running her finger along the edge of the cup. "That's really cool Rosie. What about your teachers? Do you like them?"

Rosie nodded and drank some of her tea trying her best to look like a grown up. "Mrs McNielle says I'm the best at numbers and letters and Mr. Caffrey says I'm the fastest runner."

Lyssa nodded. "Did you tell Mrs. McNielle that your daddies taught you your letters and numbers?"

"Uh huh! And I can name all kinds of aminals and fishes. And Papa has been teaching me french!" She grinned happily and Lyssa wondered if maybe she'd jumped the gun on her fears, Rosie seemed genuinely happy about school.

Lyssa decided to ask her last question which she was sure would tell her whether she needed to be really worried about Rosie and her bruises. "How do you like the other kids? Do you have any friends you want to bring over?"

Rosie stopped smiling and looked down at her teacup running her little fingers over the handle. She shook her head. "I don't have any friends."

Lyssa pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. "None at all? How come sweetie?"

"They say I'm a smartie pants and a teachers pet." Rosie said softly. "They say I talk too much and that papa is weird so I'm weird and…"

She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "And they call me a cry baby."

Lyssa reached over and patted her hand gently making Rosie look up at her. "Did they give you that bruise? And did they pull your hair?"

Rosie's face crumpled and she started to cry, Lyssa pulled her into her lap and rocked her gently letting her cry it out. "They steal my lunches and push me around and call me names." Rosie whimpered into Lyssas shoulder. "And when I cry sometimes they laugh at me. Today I tripped at recess and hurt my chin and Donny Gerald laughed at me and pulled my hair."

Lyssa rubbed her back and made soft shushing noises until Rosie had calmed. She leaned back and looked at Rosies face. "Honey why didn't you tell me you were being bullied?"

"Papa says that sometimes people say mean things about him and he doesn't care… He says it doesn't matter what people say…" Rosie swiped at her nose and Lyssa grabbed a tissue mopping the girls face.

"Rosie. Papa is a grown up, he's had a very long time to learn who is being a bully and who is just afraid of him. And papa doesn't think like everyone else. He doesn't think like you or me, and sometimes he forgets that you're a little girl and not a grown up girl. It's not ok to be bullied, or to be a bully no matter who you are or how old you are and you have to tell us when someone is being a bully." She smoothed Rosies bangs back.

"But sometimes people are mean to daddy too. Papa says mean things to him sometimes…" Rosie scrunched up her nose.

"And I'm going to talk to papa about that. For now until you're bigger if someone says mean things to you or hurts your body you have to tell a grown up ok?"

Rosie nodded and Lyssa kissed her forehead. "Ok. Finish your tea, Daddy and Papa will be calling on skype before bedtime."

Rosie finished her tea then went to play while Lyssa made a few phone calls to the Headmaster and the teachers to set up a face to face meeting the next morning. She checked the clock and started dinner. By seven she was wondering why the skype call hadn't come in yet, she checked the computer frequently but by seven thirty there was still no call and she was getting worried. John and Sherlock had been away for four days and they hadn't missed a bedtime call yet. She decided to get Rosie started on her bedtime routine "Rosie, please pick up your toys?"

Rosie did as she was asked and Lyssa got her into her pyjamas and still there was no skype call. She sighed and sat down cross legged on the floor beside Rosie who was reading one of her books while she waited. "Rosie honey, I don't think daddy and papa are going to be able to call tonight. Would you like to stay up a little longer and read a book with me or do you want to go right to bed?"

Rosie pouted and Lyssa tapped her protruding lower lip. "A little bird is going to land on that lip."

Rosie giggled and covered her lips. "Can we go see Mrs Hudson before bed instead?"

Lyssa nodded. "I think that's a good idea. Go put your slippers on."

Mr Hudson was happy to see Rosie and they sat on her little couch while Mrs Hudson read her stories. Rosie was yawning and half asleep when Lyssa decided that it was well past her bedtime and picked her up carrying her up to her bed. She was still worried about John and Sherlock missing the bedtime call but she was too worried about her morning meeting at the school to really think about it too much. By ten pm she had fallen asleep on the couch a book resting on her chest and didn't even hear the soft sound of the key in the lock. John and Sherlock crept into the flat and smiled at each other seeing Lyssa asleep on the couch. John carefully covered her with a blanket and plugged her phone in next to her before they went to their own beds.

Lyssa woke the next morning to Rosie's excited squeals and Johns laughter. She struggled up and looked around. Rosie rushed over and hugged her. "They came back, they came back!"

Lyssa smiled and got up as Sherlock strode into the room. "Rosie what did we say about waking Lyssa?"

"But she was already up." Rosie said.

"She was." John confirmed as Lyssa levered herself off the couch with a smile.

Lyssa checked the clock and winced, she'd apparently slept through her alarm. "Rosie, you need to get dressed for school, the bus will be here in ten minutes, quick quick like a bunny."

She darted into the kitchen and grabbed Rosies lunch out of the fridge and started looking for Rosies school bag. Rosie darted into her room and came out a few minutes later dressed. "Hug your daddy and papa quick."

Rosie gave them each a hug and a loud kiss on the cheek before they ran down the stairs just in time for Lyssa to get Rosie on the bus. John and Sherlock watched them go and Sherlock gave John a light smile before he went into his kitchen and began pulling out his beakers and chemicals. When Lyssa came back up the stairs she greeted them both with a smile and a quick hug. "What time did you get in?"

"Around midnight. We wanted to surprise Rosie." John replied and fixed a cup of tea.

Lyssa made some toast and they sat at the table eating. So how was the week?" John asked after a minute.

Lyssa set her toast down and cupped her chin in her hand debating what to say. She decided to just spit it out. "John… Rosie is being bullied at School."

Sherlocks head snapped up. "What?"

John looked like he'd been slapped and Sherlock abandoned his set up to come sit at their table. Lyssa sighed. "She's been coming home the last few month very subdued but I thought it was just low blood sugar or a busy exhausting day at school, she's only five and school can be very demanding, so I started packing her more food and making sure she got more sleep but yesterday she came home in tears with a patch of hair torn away. I managed to get her to talk about it."

"Who?" Sherlock asked his pale eyes hard.

"I have already called her school and arranged a meeting with the headmaster and teachers for later today." Lyssa said avoiding the question.

Sherlock would not be ignored however and pressed the issue. "Who has been bullying her?" His voice was low and hard.

"According to Rosie, all of the children." Lyssa replied with a sigh.

John squeezed his hands together. "Why wouldn't she say anything to us?" He asked quietly.

Lyssa rested a hand on each of theirs and they looked at her a little surprised. "Because she thinks it's ok."

Sherlock stood up fast and the chair clattered over. "Why would she think that?!"

Lyssa stood and righted the chair. "Sherlock please sit down."

He shook his head and paced the kitchen angrily. "I knew this would happen. Children are cruel little creatures."

Lyssa looked at John who had a sad, tired look on his face. She chose to address John since he seemed like he was in a more receptive mood. "She said she thought it was ok because Sherlock gets called mean names all the time and he doesn't seem to care and because Sherlock sometimes says mean things to you." Her quiet statement fell into the kitchen like a bomb and Sherlock sank into the chair abruptly his eyes wide.

John took a breath and let it out slow. "So… she's been trying to be a grown up… like us…"

Lyssa nodded. "She idolizes you two. Her daddy and papa who solve crimes and can do anything. She tells anyone who will listen that her daddy was a soldier and her papa is the worlds best detective. She's told everyone at Tescos." She smiled a little. "She's very proud of you two and proud to be your daughter."

Sherlock was sitting so still Lyssa wondered if he was even breathing, she kept going knowing he could hear every word and would file it away in his mind palace. "I've told her that from now on if she is bullied she has to tell a grown up. And like I said I'm going to talk to the school about this."

"What do we do about it here?" John asked wrapping his hands around the cup of tea in front of him.

"I don't really know…" Lyssa said softly. "You and Sherlock banter, it's part of who you are and I don't think you should change that and Sherlock lets insults roll off his back… at least in public…"

"What do you mean in public?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

Lyssa gave him a reproving look that made him want to duck his head. "Sherlock, you can act like it doesn't bother you when Donovan calls you a freak, you can brush off what the press says or what the public says but I know it hurts you. I've been living with you for nearly four years and I know the little signs that your feelings are hurt. And Rosie is too little to understand what she's observing, she doesn't know it hurts you, she only knows that your shrug it off. You're the yardstick that she measures herself against, you both are and she wants to be just like you."

Sherlock and John exchanged glances, they had both underestimated Lyssa and her own powers of observation. Sherlock looked down at his hands and Lyssa reached over to cover his hand with one of her own small hands. "I'm not asking you to change Sherlock. You are who you are for better or worse and Rosie loves you the way you are. Just… help me explain to her that she needs to tell someone when she's being hurt. At least until she's older."

Sherlock turned his hand over and wrapped his long fingers around her hand. John reached over and curled his big hand around theirs. "We can do that." He said softly.

They all sat like that for a long moment, united as a family. When Lyssa got up to get ready for her appointment with the school John and Sherlock joined her. The Headmaster never knew what hit him when Rosies father and her only mother figure showed up as a united force for the good of their little girl. The bullying didn't stop completely but Rosie did start coming home with more of her usual cheer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone! I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been following along and a big thanks to the guest who reviewed earlier. Not quite sure what you meant but I appreciate the review! Things are going to get a little more intense. *trigger warning for suicide in this chapter but never fear it's not one of our main characters! As always reviews are appreciated!**

John and Sherlock planned to make Christmas the year Rosie turned five into something fun and unusual. Together with Lyssa they arranged a mystery for the girl to solve and spent days getting everything set up including all of Rosie's favorite people in the game. Lyssa was up on a stepladder hanging garland when her phone rang. She clambered down and picked her cell phone up off the mantle her eyes alight with her usual cheer. "Merry Christmas Mom…" She paused and Sherlock glanced over.

He watched the way her face drained of color and her eyes glittered as she sank down onto the couch. "Oh… I...I see… Yes, of course Mom. Of course." She drew in a shaky breath and Sherlock felt a stab of anxiety, Lyssa wasn't given to tears often.

"I will Mom. I just have to get a few things taken care of here. No, No I promise I will be there Mom." The door opened and John and Rosie swept in bearing several bright gift bags.

John noticed the tableau and set his bags down but Rosie was oblivious and ran to Lyssa who had just hung up the phone. "Lyssa Lyssa! I got to see Santa and he let me tell him all about how he really came from Germany."

Lyssa tried for a smile at the girl but couldn't quite make it work, Sherlock approached her kneeling down to her eye level his long arm hooking around Rosie needing to feel her nearness somehow. "There's been a death in the family hasn't there? You father or a sibling."

Lyssa took a breath that shook and tried to keep herself together. "My sister… I need to go home. I'm sorry can you guys manage for a few days?"

John came over and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Lyssa you don't need to apologize, take as long as you need. Is there anything we can do?"

Lyssa shook her head and Sherlock felt the strange urge to rest his hand on her head like he did with Rosie when she was upset or hurt. He wondered if she'd mind the touch but refrained and settled for hugging Rosie closer. Rosie leaned towards Lyssa. "Why are you sad Lyssa?"

Lyssa gave a little hiccuping noise but somehow kept herself from bursting into tears. "My little sister was very badly hurt Rosie and I have to go home to see her. I'm sad that… that she…" She couldn't finish and John stepped in.

"Rosie remember when you were sad that Molly's cat was sick and had to go to sleep forever?"

Rosie looked up at him and nodded. "I was sad cause I missed him."

"Well honey, Lyssa is sad because her sister had to go to sleep forever too and she's going to miss her very much." John did what Sherlock had been afraid to try and rested a hand on Lyssas head his fingers carding through the freshly dyed cardinal colored hair as she crumpled in on herself and buried her face in her hands weeping.

Sherlock sat on the couch beside her and awkwardly wrapped an arm over her shoulders. Rosie looked stricken and climbed into Lyssas lap hugging her tightly. "I'm sorry Lyssa. I'm sorry please don't be sad."

Lyssa hugged the child and struggled to pull herself together, after a few minutes she took several deep breaths and kissed Rosies cheek. "I'm ok sweetheart. I'll be ok. I have to go home for a few days though."

"But this is your home." Rosie objected and Lyssa smiled and kissed her forehead. "I know baby. I mean I have to go to the United States, where I grew up."

"We can go with you!" Rosie said bouncing a little but Lyssa shook her head. "Not this time sweetheart. It's going to be a very sad visit and there won't be enough room for you and Daddy and Papa. Next time ok?"

Rosie sighed a little in disappointment but John picked her up and hugged her. "I know you want to go with Lyssa honey but right now Lyssa needs to go see her mommy and daddy."

Sherlock stood up squeezing her shoulder gently. "I'll go get you a plane ticket, I know a fellow at the airport, owes me a favor."

She gave him a dull half smile. "Thank you Sherlock."

She stood up and went to her room to pack, John got Rosie settled playing and went to see if there was anything he could do for Lyssa. He stood in the doorway and looked around her room, it was filled with the little odds and ends of her life, books on a small set of shelves, her laptop on her bed, a vanity table with her brush and what little makeup she possessed. She was tidy as far as clutter but her walls were covered in art and photos. Pictures of her parents and two sisters, pictures of her friends here in London and in three prominent collage frames were pictures of Sherlock, Rosie, Molly, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade and himself. He knew Sherlock could deduce something from her room but all he saw was how much of her life centered around Baker Street. She was packing quickly and he cleared his throat. "You… I'm sorry Lyssa, you needn't tell me what happened if you don't want to but I'm sorry."

She folded a shirt slowly and looked over at him her eyes sad. "Lorri, my youngest sister, committed suicide this morning." She said softly placing the shirt in the suitcase. "She… well… she suffered from depression, we thought she was getting better since she got on this latest medication but…"

He nodded. "I understand. Take as long as you need, we'll manage."

She zipped the case closed and dug in her desk for her passport just as Sherlock approached. "I got you a first class ticket, direct to Boston. It leaves in an hour, there's a cab waiting downstairs."

She nodded and picked up the case. "Thank you Sherlock. I'll call when I get there."

When the door had closed behind her Sherlock and John tried to finish the decorations but the flat felt strange without Lyssa and her vibrant energy to fill the silences.

She'd been gone only three days when Sherlock felt the lack of her presence become completely intolerable. She skype called every night to talk to Rosie and he'd observed her family as they moved around in the background. He'd even spoken to her parents when Lyssa introduced everyone the first call. They were so ordinary, so unlike their vibrant unusual daughter, her remaining sister was as unremarkable as her parents and it seemed like the rest of her family was just as unremarkable. Lyssa was the flame in their world of ashes and as he lay awake one night listening to the silence of the flat he realized their own home had become a little less vibrant as well. With Rosie running around it wasn't as bland as Lyssa's parents home but it seemed to him as if they'd lost a color. He got up and padded out to the living room, the christmas lights twinkled merrily, Christmas was only a week away and the tree glittered in the corner of the sitting room. Lyssa had said that she was going to spend Christmas with her family before coming home, her mother had even thanked he and John for being so understanding in their families dark hour.

He threw himself in his chair and glared at the tree balefully, his mood dark in the face of Lyssa's absence, he looked up when John came out into the sitting room and at down in his own chair eyeing the tree irritably as well. After a moment John spoke up. "It just won't feel like Christmas without her you know?"

Sherlock nodded his fingers steepled under his chin and John sighed irritably. "How does it not feel right? Ii mean I understand that she needs to be there right now but I'm feeling right tossed about her not being here and it's not reasonable given what she's going through."

Sherlock didn't speak, John didn't really want conversation, he was just airing his thoughts, a behavior Sherlock had become used to. "I miss her you know? Not all the stuff she does for us though how the hell have we not noticed all the little things she handles? I mean I am totally out of socks and I realized I forgot how to run the washer… had to youtube it. How does that happen? How did we not notice that she's become so important? She's our Nanny and our housekeeper and cook and…"

"Wife." Sherlock finished and lowered his hands looking over at his friend.

John startled and stared at him. "Oh dear God you're right." He ran a hand over his face. "She's our wife and we didn't even notice."

Sherlock waved a long fingered hand at the flat as a whole. "She didn't make it obvious, she doesn't ever make it obvious, she just does it, every day. Little things every day."

John looked around and then looked at Sherlock. "You know I don't even know if she dates…"

Sherlock snorted a small smile curling his lips. "She did for a while last year but she said it didn't work out. Said it didn't feel right."

John clasped his hands in his lap looking down at them then over at the small table next to his chair where a picture of Mary sat beside a recent picture of Rosie. Lyssa made sure Rosie knew who her mother had been and she'd always remembered to get flowers on their anniversary for John. She took Rosie to the cemetery every few months to put fresh flowers on Mary's grave and she helped Rosie make birthday cards for her late mother every year. She wasn't trying to replace Mary and yet she was as much Rosie's mother as Mary was. Sherlock started to speak quietly. "I couldn't sleep tonight, I can't stand her being away and when we're away I miss her. I feel drawn to her and I find myself seeking her out when we're both home. She's become compelling and I am attracted to her." He had his fingers steepled under his chin again and his bright blue eyes bored into Johns. And you find her just as compelling. I have observed the way you flush when she touches your hand or arm, how you lean in and inhale her scent when she stands near you. I have seen your pulse jump when she smiles at you and I have recognized in you the symptoms I feel in myself."

John swallowed. "We've both fallen in love with her…" He murmured.

"We have." Sherlock acknowledged.

"What do we do about it?" John asked.

"We have three options;" Sherlock replied. "One we tell her nothing and continue as we are, two we settle it between ourselves and the other steps aside, and three we tell her and let her choose."

John rubbed his chin thoughtfully then laughed, Sherlock's lips quirked but he was puzzled. "What?"

"The idea of us deciding for her about anything. We don't even know if she feels the same way about either of us." John looked up at the ceiling still smiling.

"She feels something. She displays the physical signs of attraction I just can't determine for whom." Sherlock said dismissively.

"Then let's let her choose yeah?" John replied lightly slapping the arms of his chair.

"Yes." Sherlock agreed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts then John sighed. "Still doesn't fix the Christmas problem though."

Sherlock slapped the arm of his chair. "It's not Christmas without her. We should just go to America and have Christmas there."

He blinked at his own outburst and John looked over at him a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, we should. In fact we will." He jumped up and Sherlock watched him confused.

"What?"

"Oh do keep up Sherlock." John teased throwing Sherlock's words back to him. "Get dressed, I'm going to book tickets to Boston and we're going to have Christmas with our Nanny."

Sherlock blinked then grinned and got up. "Call the Delta Airline number and ask for Donald. He still owes me several favors."

He dressed quickly while John made the call, he dragged his suitcase out from under the bed and was packing clothes when John poked his head in. "Plane leaves in three hours. Don't forget the presents."

Sherlock nodded and kept packing while John packed for himself then packed for Rosie. They met in the sitting room and packed the presents while Rosie sat on the couch still half asleep. She was still in her pyjamas since John reasoned she'd be more comfortable flying that way. "What are we doing Daddy?" She mumbled rubbing her eyes.

"We are going to America to spend Christmas with Lyssa." He replied and she perked up. "Really?"

"Really." Sherlock replied grabbing their passports glad that they'd had the forethought to get one for Rosie the year before.

Two hours later they were in a plane as it soared through the late December air on their way to Boston. Rosie had fallen back to sleep and Sherlock and John were huddled in their seats lost in their own thoughts as they sped towards the woman who had made herself a place in their lives as irrefutable as gravity and just as inexorable.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys thanks for keeping up with me! over 200 views and 4 followers! My all time personal best I'm so excited! As always reviews are appreciated! I am kinda gonna cliff hang you guys with this chapter because the best laid plans of our two favorite men don't work out quite like they hoped. Also I'm away for the weekend working so updates might be a bit sparse but I'll try to keep up my pace just bear with me! *Trigger warning, depression and mentions of suicide***

Sherlock looked over at John who was crouched down adjusting Rosies scarf, John glanced up and gave him a reassuring smile. "Just knock."

Sherlock lifted a hand and was surprised that it shook slightly, he was nervous, more so than he'd thought he would be, this should be a simple matter; Greet Lyssa, take her aside, inform her of the revelation he and John had had regarding her role in their lives and await her decision. Simple, logical… and yet so outside his comfort zone it was practically on a different planet. He looked at John again who was fussing with his own scarf now and realized John was just as nervous. The only one who wasn't at all bothered was Rosie who was bouncing up and down on her toes impatiently. She gave up being patient just as John was about to knock and rang the doorbell which peeled merrily. She giggled and rang it again before John or Sherlock could stop her. John caught her hand before she could ring it a third time and they waited.

It didn't take long, they could hear footsteps on the other side. 'Heavyset man, authoritative, former military possibly, no hesitation so expecting someone." Sherlock's brain spat out the deductions and he felt his shoulders relax a little, that at least was unimpaired by his nerves.

The door opened and Sherlock could hear conversation in the background as a tall heavily built man in his mid to late fifties greeted them with a puzzled smile. "Hello…" He greeted them.

John and Sherlock heard Lyssa's voice raised in angry tones somewhere in the house but John spoke up. "Um… Hi, we're friends of Lyssa's from London...Well actually…"

The man's face lightened as he smiled. "Oh yeah, I remember seeing you two on skype. You're her employers. This must be Rosie then." He bent down and offered Rosie a smile.

Being the gregarious child she was she smiled back and held out a hand. The older man shook it. "My name is Rosamund Mary Watson." She said solemnly then grinned. "I like to be called Rosie."

He smiled again more warmly. "Well my name is Harry Wilfred Jones, but you can call me Harry."

They heard something clatter to the floor in the background and Lyssa's voice climbed an octive. "For the last time Aunt Clara I am not…" It trailed off as she moved away.

Harry gave an apologetic look. "I'm sorry… we're having a… family disagreement. Come on in, I'll see if I can get a truce called."

John chuckled as they entered the home and he introduced himself and Sherlock. Rosie didn't even wait to be invited further in, she just dashed in and went looking for Lyssa. Sherlock hurried after her while John apologised.

When Sherlock caught up to Rosie she was in an enormous kitchen wrapped around Lyssas legs, Lyssa looked shocked and pleased at the same time. "Rosie how…?" She looked up and Sherlock felt like he'd been hit between the eyes.

She was wearing a long green skirt and an off white sweater that hung off one shoulder, her cardinal colored hair was tousled and looked like she'd been pulling on it, he wanted to touch that riotous hair and was surprised that in giving himself permission to have feelings for Lyssa he'd also given himself permission to feel attracted to her as well. It was odd and he realized she'd been speaking to him for a few minutes while his mind wandered. She was giving him a bemused smile as she shook her head and motioned to the older woman standing at the far end of the kitchen. "Sorry Aunt Clara, Sherlock is probably jetlagged. Sherlock this is my aunt Clara. Aunt Clara this is Sherlock and his daughter Rosie."

She crouched down and hugged Rosie tightly and he saw that her face was drawn and she looked anxious but was trying to hold it together. Clara glared at him and sniffed. "So you're why she won't come home unless someone has died."

"Aunt Clara!" She snapped and he saw her eyes sparkle with anger, she was pretty angry.

"Clara that's enough for today alright?" Harry said coming in with John following behind.

John walked over and gave Lyssa a hug which she returned gratefully, Sherlock belatedly realized he should have offered some kind of physical greeting but he was very out of his depth in this area. Harry introduced John and Lyssa gave them curious looks. "Not that I am not thrilled to see you guys and my favorite girl but what are you doing here?"

Clara muttered something but everyone ignored her. John gave her a sheepish smile. "It just didn't feel right celebrating Christmas without you." He said. "We had all the decorations up and the presents under the tree but without you it just wasn't Christmas."

"Besides, you're the only one who can make a passable Wassail." Sherlock added dryly but Lyssa laughed knowing he was trying to be funny.

She disentangled from Rosie and walked to him giving him a warm hug as well. "Thanks guys."

An older man walked into the kitchen and was introduced as Uncle Edward, he was followed by several cousins and another two Aunts. Lyssa managed to excuse herself, John, Sherlock and Rosie saying she was going to introduce them to her mother and sister upstairs. She reached out and took each of their hands squeezing for a second before taking them up the stairs. The house was generously apportioned with a sweeping staircase leading to an exposed upstairs hall with doors lining the wall. She took them to the far end and knocked on the door. "Mom… Andy… I have someone I want you to meet." She said softly.

She must have heard something neither Sherlock or John heard because she opened the door and led them into a huge Master bedroom. Sherlocks eyes took in the details, the cream walls and the massive dark bed, the chest of drawers littered with cards and flowers. Sitting on the bed was a young woman who looked enough like Lyssa to be her younger sister but where Lyssa was all bright colors and luminescence Andy was dark haired and subdued. She looked wan and somehow less like a person next to her sister. She was also glaring daggers at Lyssa.

The older woman sitting on the bed was a mirror of what Lyssa would look like at 60 minus the tattoos and exuberant hair. Her face was puffy with crying and she had the look of someone who had dropped a lot of weight very fast and for all the wrong reasons. "Mom, Andy this is…"

"Sherlock Holmes and John Watson." Andy finished tersely. "Yeah, you talk about them so much how could we not know?"

Lyssa caught her lower lip between her teeth to keep from snapping. "Yeah. And this is Rosie." She drew Rosie forward and rested her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Rosie, this is my mom Helen and my sister Andrea. She likes to be called Andy."

Andy made an annoyed noise but Helen slid off the bed and came over to smile at Rosie. "Hello Rosie, Lyssa says you are a very bright girl."

"I can read and do math and I'm only in kindergarten." Rose said proudly.

"That's very good" Helen said and smiled before holding out a hand for John and Sherlock to shake. "I'm sorry I didn't greet you downstairs, I'm just having a bad day."

Andy gave a disgusted noise. "They shouldn't be here mom, they aren't family and that's what this is all for. Our Family and what we lost."

She was so angry Sherlock could feel it like a weight on his skin. He thought back to what he knew about Lyssa's family and remembered that Lorri and Andrea were twins. He cleared his throat and spoke softly. "I am very sorry for your loss Helen, and for the loss of your twin Andrea."

He realized he had misspoken when Andy bristled like an angry cat and clambered off the bed, her anger though was all directed at Lyssa. "You told him about us? How can you share personal details about us with people we've never even met, what else have you told them? Did you tell them that Dad has a bad heart, or that Aunt Clara takes Pot for her hip? How about that it was all your fault that Lorri killed herself huh? Bet you didn't tell your precious friends that detail."

Lyssa had gone so pale John worried that she was going to pass out. "Andrea Marie!" Helen said in shock then turned to apologise to Sherlock and John.

Lyssa let go of Rosie and turned on her heel walking out of the room and down the stairs. Andy crossed her arms and watched her go her face set in angry lines. Helen seemed at a loss. "I am so sorry, we've… it's… Things have been very hard this week."

Andy snorted. "Why tell them Mom? They aren't staying."

Helen had enough. "Andrea Marie Jones that is enough. They came all the way from England to pay their respects and to see your sister. I know you have better manners than this."

Andy threw her hands up in the air and stomped out of the room down the hall muttering angrily the whole way. She walked into a room and shut the door with a snap and Helen buried her face in her hands before straightening. "I am so sorry you had to see that. It won't happen again."

John patted her arm. "Its part of the grief process. We stopped by to say hello and give our condolences but we do need to go check into our hotel."

Helen looked stricken. "Oh no please, stay. We have a guest house that you can stay in."

Harry appeared in the door and wrapped his arms around Helen from behind. "She's right, the Guest house is empty since everyone already here is staying in the main house, it wouldn't be any trouble." He smiled at Rosie "Besides, it means the whole Family will be here for the Holiday."

Sherlock felt stunned and John stammered. Helen smiled for the first time and it really was like seeing an older Lyssa. "She said you would be surprised. Oh come on you two, she's been your nanny for three years and loves you like Family and you've been so good to her. Please say you'll stay."

John looked at Sherlock who nodded. "Of course, do you mind if I use your phone, I need to cancel the reservations."

"Oh not at all. Rosie would you like to go play with the other kids? They're in the basement." Helen smiled and crouched down to look at Rosie on her level.

Rosie looked up at John and Sherlock and Sherlock smiled. "Go have fun Rosie, we'll be here."

Rosie beamed and nodded. "Yes please."

Helen's smile brightened and she took Rosies hand leading her down the stairs. Harry watched them go with a fond smile. "That's the happiest she's been all week. Thank you."

John rubbed the back of his neck. "We really didn't mean to intrude and we are very sorry for your loss."

Harry gave a small sad nod. "It's been hard but we'll pull through and having you three here will help take everyone's mind off sad things."

"Where did Lyssa go?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh she's probably out in the gazebo. She goes… went… there sometimes when she'd had a fight with one of us." He pointed out the window at the snow covered roof of a gazebo in the backyard.

"Right… Do you mind if we go check up on her?" John asked.

"Of course not. You guys are welcome anywhere in the house. Ask Lyssa to show you the guesthouse before you come in too." Harry rubbed his large hands on his blue jeans and sighed. "I'm going to go check on Andy."

Sherlock and John passed him on their way to the stairs and went outside by way of the back door. They could hear Aunt Clara harassing someone else in the house and Sherlock grimaced. "Little wonder she wanted out of the states." He muttered.

They crossed the snow covered ground to the gazebo where Lyssa sat with her legs drawn up under the skirt on one of the benches. She was wrapped in a bright blue shawl and had her chin resting on her knees when they stepped in. It wasn't as cold inside the gazebo as they thought it would be and John sat down next to her. "So…"

She gave a small twist of her lips that might have been a smile. "I'm sorry about Andy."

"Why is everyone apologising, we are the intruders." Sherlock said.

Lyssa smiled a little more at that. "I have no idea. Some social custom I guess."

"And that would be why it got deleted." Sherlock huffed pacing around the interior of the gazebo.

They stayed quiet for a long minute before Lyssa spoke up again. "I'm guessing mom took Rosie off to play with the cousins?"

"Yeah," John replied. "She likes Rosie."

"Hard not to, she's a great kid." Lyssa replied.

Sherlock dropped onto the bench on the other side and decided to just jump into what he was thinking. "Lyssa why did Andy claim it's your fault Lorri committed suicide?"

"Sherlock!" John groaned.

Lyssa gave a little huff and rubbed her eyes. "It's fine John, it's Sherlock so I know he's not being rude on purpose." She hesitated before speaking. "She said it because it's true."

"How could you be the cause?" Sherlock asked outraged. "You were in England."

"That's why." Lyssa replied picking at the rings on her fingers not looking at them. "Ever since Lorri was small she was quiet, she was shy and timid and all the things Andy isn't. They were total opposites and Andy couldn't stand how meek Lorri was so they were never as close as other twins. Lorri gravitated to me a lot, when she was diagnosed with depression she refused to see her therapist without me so I went with her every week. I used to take her to my sewing classes and I tried helping her be more confidant but it seemed like the harder tried the more anxious she got so for a while it was just me and Lorri against the world." She sniffled a little and pulled a tissue out and wiped her nose and eyes. "Then I got a job with a theater company here in Boston and I didn't have as much time to spend with her but she had started medication and was doing much better so I thought it was ok if I took the job with the company in England. She cried so hard when I told everyone. And Andy didn't help, she told Lorri to grow up, that she was being a pathetic baby. Lorri tried to kill herself that night."

She paused for a minute to get herself under control and John rubbed her shoulder, Sherlock felt stunned and he reached out resting a hand on her leg through the skirt. She kept going. "She was hospitalized for 90 days and I had to take the job or lose the chance. Mom and dad said to take the job, they'd take care of her. So I left, when the company went under I called home and told mom and dad. Lorri was home by then and she begged me to come home, begged. And I said I wasn't ready. Mom and dad started taking her to a new therapist and they changed her medications a few times. She was getting better, she started going to college and the last few times I called he seemed so happy. Then I called last week and she begged me to come home again. She was so upset and said she was just faking it to make mom and dad happy, she said if I wouldn't come home she'd just kill herself. I told her I couldn't. I had Rosie and you guys to think about and I couldn't just leave. She hung up and I called mom and dad and they told me they would handle it, that she was just being dramatic."

Lyssa's face was a mask of grief and guilt and she didn't even seem to notice the tears sliding down her cheeks. "Andy's right, it's my fault…" She pressed her face against her knees and cried.

Sherlock and John looked at each other over her shaking shoulders, suddenly their own revelation seemed so trivial but it was obvious to them both that she needed them. Sherlock carefully wrapped his arms around her from behind, John coiled himself around her front and they held her between them while she cried. When the shaking abated John tilted her face up to his and pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped her face. "It was not your fault Lyssa." She opened her mouth but he rested a finger against her lips. "No, it was not. Lorri was sick. She had a serious mental illness, there was nothing you could have done even if you had rushed home, she would have found another reason."

Sherlock let himself stroke her bright hair trying to sooth her. "You got her help, your family made sure she had medication and help."

John nodded and finished blotting her face with the hanky. "You did everything right. Sometimes you can do everything right and still lose. That's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Andrea knows it to but she's angry and probably feels a little guilty herself."

Sherlock gave her a light squeeze. "And we did need you Lyssa. Without you we never would have been able to manage. You make our house a home. That's why we came all this way, it just wasn't home without you." He had decided to put his feelings for her on the back burner until she was feeling more herself.

"Exactly." John said. "You did what you had to, if you hadn't taken the chance with the Theater Company you'd have been miserable and angry with yourself, that wouldn't have helped Lorri, you might have begun to resent her and push her away. But you didn't, you took the time to call her, to keep in touch and make sure she was doing alright. And then you met us and we became a family." John rested her head on his shoulder.

They sat there for several minutes while Lyssa gathered herself. She finally sat up and wiped her eyes clearing her throat. "Thank you. I really don't know if I could have handled this without you both and Rosie."

John smiled and kissed her cheek. "You'll always have us, we're your family. Your father even said so. He told us to have you show us the guesthouse since we're apparently not allowed to stay at a hotel."

Lyssa laughed and it made Sherlock's heart feel a little lighter after all her self recrimination and tears. "That sounds like mom and dad."

She stood up a little stiffly from the cold and brushed her hair back out of her face. She hugged them each in turn. "Thank you."

Sherlock and John looked at each other and took her hands. They could wait to tell her, they would wait for a better time. 'After all, it's not an announcement or a decision to be made with a distracted mind.' Sherlock reasoned as Lyssa led them by the hand to the guesthouse.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys! I am so sorry I wasn't able to post over the weekend. I am self employed and when I'm at conventions I don't get a lot of free time to write but it does give me lots of time to come up with more ideas for this little gem. I want to say thank you to everyone who has been reading along and thanks to the Guest who reviewed even if I'm not totally sure what you meant. As always reviews are appreciated. Get ready for some more feels!**

As it would turn out John and Sherlock wouldn't get the chance to confess their feelings to Lyssa. More relatives flew in from various corners of the US and Lyssa got very little time to spend alone with her strange little family from London. Then on Christmas Eve the Jones house got a visit from the US Government. Lyssa answered the door with a toddler on each hip, her grin fading a she took in the two men in black suits, ear pieces and rigid stances. "You must be looking for Sherlock Holmes." She said and enjoyed the look of consternation that crossed their faces.

"Yes… how would you know that?" The oldest of the pair, a man with graying hair but the build of a highly trained martial artist asked.

Lyssa smiled. "If he wants you to know he'll tell you. Come in, don't mind the army of tiny people running around."

She stepped back and let them in walked down the hall. "Sherlock! John! You have company." She called into the house and disappeared into the kitchen leaving the Suits standing awkwardly by the door.

Sherlock came bounding down the stairs with John following at a more restrained pace. "Look John, we're being visited by the illustrious elite members of the Secret Service attached directly to the President of the United States. Though one of them is being replaced, that one." He motioned to the younger man who shifted uncomfortably. "And is having an affair with his partner's wife. Such a pity when partners fall out don't you think John?"

The older Suit flicked an angry glance at his partner but was admirable in his professionalism and with a roll of his shoulders he got back to business. "Sherlock Holmes, we have been sent to escort you to Washington DC. You are needed."

"Wait, what?" John asked. "Why would we need to go to Washington DC on Christmas Eve?"

"We aren't." Sherlock replied flicking his hand dismissively.

"You most certainly are." Said the older man. "You know who we work for and this is not a request."

"We aren't citizens of the United States, you have no authority over us." John protested.

"Authority or not it is Christmas Eve and we are here to see Family. The murders have been happening at regular three week intervals, the next isn't due until four days after Christmas Day and I will be able to solve it within twentyfour hours of my arrival, you may collect us day after tomorrow." Sherlock turned to walk away and the Secret Service men pulled tasers from their jackets and fired them at both John and Sherlock. The electrodes struck them both and blackness engulfed them both, strangely no one was in the hallway and the Secret Service was able to spirit them away without anyone noticing until Rosie started asking where her fathers were in increasingly worried tones.

By bedtime Rosie was in tears and Lyssa was fuming. It wasn't uncommon at home for John and Sherlock to vanish with very little warning but they weren't at home and usually they at least texted her when they left on a case. She tried calling their phones but felt her stomach drop when she heard the ringtones in the entry hall and found both phones sitting on the hall table. She put Rosie to bed and sat up waiting to hear anything from them, she was intuitive enough to know that they had likely been taken off by the government agents that had been at the door but she was upset that they were going to miss Christmas and she knew it would upset Rosie. They'd never missed a Christmas and with the exception of when they were in a coma they'd never missed a birthday.

Her father knocked on her door and let himself in. "Hey honey. Is everything ok? Your friends are missing and Rosie was pretty upset earlier."

She stood up from where she'd been sitting on her bed and pushed her hair behind her ears. "Uh… yeah I think so. There were a couple of Government Agents here to talk to them and I think they had to leave in a hurry." She paused and twisted the ring on her thumb. "It's not like them to not say goodbye to their daughter though, or let me know when they might be back."

Her dad leaned on the doorframe his arms crossed. "They're a bit… eccentric aren't they?"

She smiled and her father saw how it lit up her face. "Yeah, they're the pair aren't they. But they're great dads and they love Rosie. And I've learned so much living with them."

"You've changed a lot too." Her father said softly. "You're more confident, more comfortable in yourself, so like your mother."

She smiled at him and crossed the few feet to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "You know all we ever wanted for you and your sisters was for you to be happy right?"

"Of course Dad." She looked up at him and he gave her a soft smile before taking her by the shoulders.

"Honey… I know you'll be going back to London after Christmas and you know your mother and I will miss you but we support you. But I have to know, those two, are they… together?"

Lyssa laughed a little. "No Dad, they're straight, Remember how I told you that Rosie is from Johns previous marriage? His wife died, Sherlock and John used to be flatmates and when she died he moved back in. Sherlock loves Rosie like his own so they're both her fathers, they co-parent very well."

Her dad nodded looking relieved; Lyssa gave him a bemused look and rested her hands on his forearms. "Why so worried about their sexual orientation Dad? You've never cared about whether someone is gay or not before."

"That was before I realized my daughter is in love with them and I don't want to see you hurt." Henry got one of his arms free and rubbed the back of his neck.

Lyssa felt like she'd been hit between the eyes and her father had to smile at how shocked she looked. "Lyssa… you have lived with them for three years and you stopped telling your mom about your dates a long time ago so we can guess that you've stopped dating. And we've seen how you look at them," He cupped her cheek making her look up at him. "And how they've looked at you honey."

Lyssa shook her head and took a step back. "It's not like that Dad; I'm their nanny and Rosie needs me. John and Sherlock are always out at odd hours so it's hard to plan a date. And besides, Sherlock is married to his work and John still misses his wife, he hasn't been dating either."

Her dad ambled into her room and sat on her bed. "Well it's hardly surprising, he loved her and he's got a daughter to think of. I know if I lost your mom It would take me a long time to get over losing her, I might never get over losing her and if I were left with a child to raise I'd be very careful who I raised her with." He ran a hand through his graying hair and sighed feeling every day of his 59 years. "Lyssa honey... Losing your sister made me think about a lot of things. The things I always meant to do with all three of you but never got around to and all the things I hoped I'd see you three do."

Lyssa twisted her fingers together looking down to hide the tears in her eyes and he kept going. "Your mom and I were looking forward someday to seeing you all married and thinking on it I realize I don't care what gender any of you pick as long as you have as much love in your life as I was lucky enough to have with your mother. And then those two men showed up on the porch and they looked so relieved, so nervous and just so damned happy to see you. That's when I knew they loved you. And seeing how much you light up when they're in the room… and how worried you are not knowing where they are I know you love them too…" He cleared his throat and Lyssa spoke hesitantly.

"I don't understand Dad, what are you trying to say?"

He stood up and pulled her into a firm hug. "I think what I'm trying to say Honey is that you don't have to worry what your mom and I will think no matter who… or how… you choose to love and live. If…" He stopped when the door creaked open and Rosie shuffled in sniffling.

"Lyssa… I had a bad dream…" She whimpered and Lyssa knelt down and pulled the girl into her arms.

"Oh honey I'm sorry…" She looked up at her Dad. "I'm sorry Dad, she's gonna be up for a while, can we keep talking later?"

He smiled and leaned down pressing a kiss to the top of her head then Rosies. "I said what I needed to honey. You know you can always talk to me."

She smiled and picked Rosie up cuddling her. "Thanks Dad."

He left the room closing the door, as it closed he watched the two through the narrowing crack. Lyssa sitting on the bed with Rosie who rested her head on Lyssa's shoulder in a gesture of long habit and familiarity, her bright blond hair a startling contrast to Lyssa's cardinal red locks but they fit together like puzzle pieces. He thought as he closed the door that he could see the little round bits where two other pieces should go and his heart went out to his daughter and her strange little family as he went in search of his own matching puzzle piece keenly feeling the loss of one of his other pieces knowing that his family puzzle would never be the same again.

'But maybe we can add a few extra pieces to sooth that hurt.' He thought as he sat down on the edge of his bed and stroked his wifes hair as she slept. 'A few pieces from a british puzzle wouldn't hurt at all.'


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys sorry I didn't post this yesterday. I've been getting ready for a convention and my head was elsewhere. I'm so thrilled by how many people have been reading and favoriting this story. You guys are great! As always reviews are rewarded with good karma and loads of love!**

John and Sherlock woke in an elegantly appointed sitting room with pounding headaches. John slowly sat up and winced at the sharp pain in his pectoral muscle, he pulled his shirt collar down and frowned at the two round scorch marks. "Bloody hell." He looked over at Sherlock who was sitting in his quintessential thinking pose. "Sherlock, those two berks tasered us."

"Good of you to join me John." Sherlock retorted dryly.

John ignored him and stood up looking around at the room. He shot a glance at Sherlock who sighed. "You aren't even going to try to deduce where we are."

John smiled and shook his head. "And listen to you tell me all the myriad details I've gotten wrong? I'd rather eat moldy chips."

Sherlock gave him a dry smile and lowered his hands. "Oh very well, We are in the White House, a sitting room in the west wing of the building and are currently awaiting details on a series of serial murders happening within these very walls. One every three weeks, the next to occur in 3 days, 11 hours, 17 minutes give or take sixty seconds. The Secret Service is unable to catch the perpetrator and as the murders have been steadily moving up the food chain they correctly assume the murderer is wending their way closer to their true target."

"The President of the United States." John finished.

Sherlock nodded. "Just so."

"And that Mr. Holmes is why we had to bring you here in such an… unconventional manner." The door opened and the man making the pronouncement was so utterly average John wondered if he'd even remember the man upon his exit.

Sherlock looked at the man in silence so long John wondered if he'd retreated to his mind palace. He cleared his throat and Sherlock glanced over at him, he rolled his eyes and sighed. "John a silent protest only works if you maintain silence."

John blinked. "Is that what we were doing? Well then." He sat down and folded his arms over his chest getting comfortable while Sherlock went back to his own silent contemplation of the Utterly Average head of Secret Service.

"Mycroft warned me you'd be like this." The Head of the Secret Service sighed and pulled out a cell phone.

He pressed a button and held it to his ear. "Mycroft, Stevenson here, you were right." He listened for a moment then held the phone out to Sherlock who ignored it. He pressed the speakerphone button and Mycroft's voice came clear and annoyed.

"Really Sherlock I can abide this kind of behavior when you are at home but you are embarrassing myself and more importantly you are embarrassing the British government. We did after all recommend your services when it became clear that you were in America. What in heaven's name are you doing there anyway?"

"We were attempting to enjoy a family Christmas." John retorted.

He could all but see the exasperation on Mycroft's face as another sigh issued forth from the phone. "If you hurry and don't show off the case can be resolved before Christmas morning." Mycroft ground out.

"And we will be more than happy to fly you via Helicopter back to the Jones Residence." Stevenson added.

John looked over at Sherlock and put a hand on his shoulder. "We've never missed a Christmas." He said and Sherlock pursed his lips before nodding and standing up.

"Very well but only because our daughter deserves her fathers at Christmas, not because you kidnapped us and are making a pathetic attempt at coercion." He took the phone from Stevenson and ended the call before tossing the phone away and strode out of the room John hurrying to follow.

Sherlock was shown to the last murder sight and for the next four hours they crisscrossed the White House with Sherlock taking random detours to interview people who had seemingly no connection to the case until at last he pronounced that he knew who the culprit was. "It's quite obvious if you Observe the goings on of the White House staff. But as usual so very few people Observe." Sherlock grumbled pacing back and forth back in the sitting room they'd started out in.

"Sherlock." John said and tapped his watch.

"Oh very well. It was the Head HouseKeeper. Mrs. Gilderoy, she's a plant, has been for years, I assume she's working with the Koreans or maybe the Russians. Or perhaps she's an independant contractor for the Iranians, or the Serbians. Who she works with is your problem. She is remarkably sentimental however, she used the same weapon in each murder, a long narrow blade, a bayonet in point of fact, from World War Two. One can only assume it was a familial heirloom as there are many much more conventional and easily obtained items she could have used."

Stevenson nodded to the pair of Secret Service Agents who had kidnapped them both and they left with a purposeful set to their shoulders. Stevenson motioned for Sherlock and John to follow him. "As promised we will deliver you back to the Jones Residence, You'll arrive just in time for presents I think."

Sherlock gave the first genuine smile in hours and John grinned. The helicopter ride was unremarkable with both men deep in their own thoughts and three hours later they were deposited in the cul de sac. They watched as the helicopter lifted back off swirling snow around them, John shivered, neither of them had their coats having been kidnapped by agents of aggressive corporate dress code. Sherlock strode towards the Jones house and was greeted by a handful of adults still barely awake at half an hour past dawn. Lyssa pushed her way to the front and glared at them. "You two had me so worried."

John smiled reassuringly. "I'm so sorry Lyssa. But we made it back in time for Christmas."

Lyssa sighed and pulled her sweater in closer around her before looking up at Sherlock. "I figured you'd been spirited away by the Government automatons. Did you have a good case?"

Sherlock smiled. "It was stimulating."

She smiled and looped her arms through each of theirs. "Come on, let's get inside, it's freezing, the kids will be up soon and Rosie will be thrilled to have you home."

The house slowly came to life with all the adults being dragged reluctantly from their beds by exuberant children excited for presents. Henry was that years designated Santa Claus and once everyone was gathered in the large great room around the festive Christmas tree, he passed out presents to the kids first then the adults, even Sherlock and John got presents and to Sherlock's surprise they were thoughtful well chosen presents. Sherlock sat back watching the huge family with it's dozens of children and adults all genuinely joyous in the light of the holiday and the comradery. Lyssa was smiling and passing out cups of coffee and he and John both watched her with open fondness on their faces. Sherlock accepted his cup taking a sip as he scanned the room again. He thought he finally understood why she was the way she was, her family genuinely loved each other, they supported one another, even though they might not have understood her or her choices they accepted them and loved her if not in spite of them then because of them and she passed that acceptance on to Sherlock, John and Rosie. He glanced at John and saw his best friend had come to the same conclusion.

Rosie came scampering up to them holding the illustrated book of animal anatomy he'd chosen for her and the box of Animal figures John had gotten her. "Thank you Daddy! Thank you Papa! I love them!" She leaned up and the both obligingly leaned down so she could kiss their cheeks then she was gone again and they both realized she was wearing a new dress and sweater set hand made by Lyssa.

Lyssa's laugh filled the room and was joined by others and they looked back over to her where she was surrounded by her family, a little sadder for their recent loss, a little more careworn but still together, still a family. Then she looked over at them and motioned them over and Sherlock felt the inclusion like a jolt of electricity to his heart.

Somewhere in all the chaos of Christmas morning they had become family too.


	12. Chapter 12

**And it's all coming to a head. I'm actually getting close to the end of this story. I cannot believe how many people are reading this fic but I love it! Reviews are rewarded with good karma and kitten kisses!**

It was rather a lot harder to confess their feelings for Lyssa than they had immediately thought when they'd bolted from their home in London to Boston for Christmas. They'd left for home the day after Christmas with Lyssa in tow this time. They had both tried to confess a handful of times while they were packing to leave, and while they were in the cab to the airport and again once they were in the air but the words seemed to balk and died unspoken. In fact they had been home a week before John threw up his hands in frustration and disgust with himself. Lyssa had the day off and was out at a theatrical convention for the afternoon. John had been the one to try to broach the topic before she'd left but the words had died in his throat when he saw what she was wearing. She'd swept down the stairs dressed like some sort of fairy queen in a long gown she'd made. The deep green set off her skin and the low square neckline made her breasts mound in the most distracting way, John's mouth had turned to a barren desert at the sight of her and before he could recover she'd kissed Rosie's cheek and told him when she'd be back as she sailed out of the flat. He couldn't remember for the life of him when she'd said she'd be back, every time he thought of it his mind conjured up the image of her in the bloody gown and he'd start blushing.

He considered asking Rosie who had been paying attention but that might be just as awkward if she asked why he couldn't remember, she'd just started picking up Sherlocks trick of noticing absolutely everything and questioning it too. The door opened and Sherlock wandered into the flat a large plastic sack that was suspiciously lumpy in his hand. He took in John and Rosie and sighed. "Still can't tell her?"

John snorted then looked around for Rosie finding her totally engrossed in her animal anatomy book in her room. "Well it's not like youve had much luck telling her either."

Sherlock nodded to acknowledge the point as he stowed his bag in his fridge and closed the door. He stripped out of his coat and scarf hanging them up before padding to his violin and picking it up. He looked anxious to John, it wasn't an attitude he was used to seeing from his normally arrogantly confident friend. He approached him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Sherlock what's wrong?"

"It occurred to me that if we confess there are four options. Option one she will not reciprocate and leave to spare us the humiliation or to distance herself. Option two She will not reciprocate but will remain because she loves Rosie and she enjoys her life here enough to put any discomfort behind her. Option three We confess and she reciprocates your affections. Option four we confess and she reciprocates my affections." He fiddled with the bow of his violin while he spoke his eyes down. "I think the latter two options are the most likely though option two is certainly a very real possibility. But if she does choose one of us what does the other party do?"

John realized that he'd been thinking something similar and he ran a hand over his face with a groan, he looked at his friend with a small smile. "Well aren't we a pair of morons. That's why it's been so hard to just tell her. She's too important to us and our family and we don't want to lose her or each other."

Sherlock nodded and put his violin up under his chin and started playing. John wandered back to Rosies room and sat on the floor to play with his daughter. He prefered to spend his off days this way, not that chasing after Sherlock on a case wasn't stimulating but he sometimes felt as though he wasn't spending enough time with Rosie, after several minutes of violin music Sherlock came and joined them and they spent a pleasant few hours playing make believe with their daughter before she tired of the game and asked for a story. Sherlock grabbed a book at random while Rosie curled up in John's lap, Sherlock had only been reading for a few minutes when Rosie looked up at them. "Papa… how come I don't have a mommy?"

"Why don't I." He corrected absently as he lowered the book, he detested what he called loose grammar and was trying to teach Rosie to speak properly.

She frowned a little but repeated the question. "Why don't I have a mommy?"

He looked at John who worried at his lower lip, they'd all discussed when they would tell Rosie what had happened to her mother and it had been decided that she'd be told when she asked, but in terms appropriate to whatever her age was at asking. Sherlock set the book back on the shelf and faced Rosie squarely. "Rosie, when you were very very young, before Lyssa came to live with us, you did have a mommy. She was a brilliant woman, one of the best I've ever known. And she loved your daddy very much. She even loved me a little."

John smiled lopsidedly, Mary had loved Sherlock like a brother, she thought he was brilliant and had encouraged his inclusion in almost every aspect of the life she and John were building together, he felt a pang of loss, dulled by the intervening years since her death and listened to Sherlock speak. They were both so focused on Rosie neither of them heard the door open quietly, or the feather light footsteps in the hall. "But mommy had a secret past, we knew about it and we didn't care, we loved her so we took care of her. But sometime secrets have a way of cropping up, like that time you left a glass of milk under your bed because you know you're not supposed to have food or drink in here."

Rosie wrinkled her nose. "It got all chunky and smelled really bad."

Sherlock smiled a little but his pale blue eyes were a little out of focus. "Exactly, well your mommy's secret got all chunky and smelly and she got into trouble, we tried to help her, we even found out who was trying to get her into more trouble but that bad person tried to shoot Papa."

Rosie gasped and reached her hands out the tiny digits grasping his shirt sleeve. John gave her a reassuring squeeze and kissed her on the top of the head. Sherlock turned his hands over and clasped her tiny hands in his long ones. "But your mommy was too fast and too brave to let that happen. She jumped in front of me and was struck by the bullet instead." He blinked rapidly remembering that moment and he saw John's eyes brighten with unshed tears.

"She died." Rosie whispered a little sadly.

"She gave up her life so I could stop the bad person, and so I could keep stopping bad people. Your mommy thought I was a hero, just like your daddy does. I'm not sure I agree but I won't argue since your mommy gave up her life so I could be." Sherlock scooted a little closer and cupped Rosies small face in his hands looking down at her. "I promised your mommy I would be the best person I could be and take care of you and daddy. And I know she would be so proud of how big and smart you are. Just like Daddy and I are."

John was a little surprised at his friend. Such an outpouring of sentiment was unusual in Sherlock but thinking back on it he'd noticed that Sherlock was truly trying to be the person Mary had given her life to save. 'In dieing she imparted a value on my life, a currency I am unsure how to spend.' He'd said all those years ago when John had broken down in his flat after that heart stopping case, he'd apparently decided that the best way to use that currency was to save it and use it to be the best father figure he could be to Mary's daughter, no matter what that meant, even if it included this somewhat uncharacteristic outpouring of sentiment.

Rosie leaned forward and hugged Sherlock, they all stayed that way for a few moments then Rosie leaned back and looked up at John then Sherlock. "Will I ever have another Mommy?"

The question shocked them both. "Why do you want another Mommy?" John blurted then mentally slapped his forehead, it had come out surprised and a little unhappy.

Rosie sensed it too and looked down at her hands and whispered something. Sherlock nudged her gently. "You'll have to speak up, we didn't hear that."

"All my friends have mommies and their mommies take them on field trips and to salons and sometimes they all have play dates but it's only mommies who get invited, never daddies and…" She squirmed a little before she kept going. "And they never invite Lyssa cause she's not my Mommy, and she doesn't get to go on the special trips, she always makes sure one of you gets to go with me because she's not my mommy." She looked up at them her eyes defiant and her chin set in a way that reminded them both of Lyssa when she was feeling intractable. And I sometimes wish Lyssa was my mommy."

She flushed then started crying guiltily. "But that's bad cause my real Mommy was a hero and she died and doesn't get to be my mommy."

Neither of them was really sure how to handle the situation or the suddenly crying little girl. John rubbed her back soothingly wondering if they'd made a mistake telling her about Mary and how she'd died so young while Sherlock ran his long clever finger through her loose wavy hair. John cleared his throat and turned her to face him, he knew this next part was up to him, Mary had been his wife after all. "Rosie honey, your mommy wouldn't want you feeling bad about missing her, or missing having a mommy. It's a natural thing. Daddy misses mommy very much but he knows mommy wouldn't want him to stay sad forever and…" He cleared his throat again blinking tears away. "And I know mommy would be very happy to know you love Lyssa so much you want her to be your mommy. If mommy were here I know she would like Lyssa very much."

Rosie blinked watery green-blue eyes up at him. "She would?" She sniffled and went to wipe her nose on her sleeve but Sherlock caught her and turned her so he could wipe her nose with a handkerchief. "She would." He replied confidently. "Your mommy would have loved Lyssa as much as we all do, Lyssa is very special to us. You know she does all the things a mommy would."

"Like making me dresses and my favorite sandwiches for lunch!" Rosie brightened.

"And making sure you get your bath and reading you stories and remember all the times she took you to the zoo?" John added.

"And she always knows when my tummy hurts or when I'm sad." Rosie said then pinned them both with what they'd fondly started calling her 'Mary look'. It was equal parts determination, pleading and fondness. "I want Lyssa to be my mommy."

John and Sherlock swallowed hard and looked at each other. "Rosie… we're trying to decide how...or if… Lyssa can be your mommy but it's very complicated. See Daddy and Papa both love her very much but we don't know if she loves us back and what if she only loves one of us?" John finally said giving voice to his anxiety.

"What if she loves both of you?" Rosie asked. "Can she be my mommy then?"

Sherlock felt the air getting a little harder to breath as she voiced an option neither of them had considered seriously. "That's not really done." He said hoarsely.

"Why not?" Rosie was all but bouncing in John's lap. "I have two daddies, everyone at school thinks that's weird but they don't bother me anymore and Mrs. Huff thinks Lyssa is being inapp...inappr… she thinks Lyssa is being weird living with you both, she says all kinds of mean things but I telled on her to the head master."

"Told." Sherlock corrected automatically his head spinning.

"I told on her." Rosie repeated dutifully.

John and Sherlock stared at each other their minds whirling over the possibilities, it would be unconventional to be sure but what they already had was already so unconventional, how much difference could this make in their already odd little family. Rosie watched them expectantly and it felt like the whole flat was holding it's breath. "We will have to ask Lyssa how she feels about that Rosie." John finally croaked out.

"But you do love her right Daddy? Papa? You do want her to be my mommy?" She was standing now her whole body thrumming with the need to know.

Sherlock and John smiled. "We do love her Rosie, we've loved her for a long while now, we just weren't sure how to tell her."

Rosie relaxed but looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Because grownups can be very silly sometimes." John replied and Sherlock chuckled. "And it can be very hard and scary to tell someone you love them when you're a grown up."

They heard a noise in the hall and John saw the train of Lyssa's fairy dress sweeping around the bed in the hall to her own room and he swore under his breath. Sherlock looked at him his eyes wide and if it were possible his face even paler. "Well John… looks like the cat's out of the bag."


	13. Chapter 13

**So here it is guys. The end. This has been a rollercoaster ride writing this. I don't know if I want to add an epilogue or leave it alone and maybe add another story. I really want to know what you guys think. Should I keep this going, should I write another one or call it good? Please review and let me know what you think!**

Lyssa closed her door quietly and leaned against it her heart hammering. She looked down at her dress and sighed seeing the coffee stain that dribbled down the front of her dress. That was why she'd come home early, she'd come in quietly and had heard voices in Rosies room. She remembered thinking that she'd wanted to take a picture of all three of them, with everyone so busy with their own thing she didn't get to see them relaxed very often and she loved taking candid shots of them. She began to unlace the dress so she could get some stain remover on it.

She'd been about to peek around the door frame when she heard Rosies questions and felt her heart constrict. She knew Rosie would ask sooner or later but the pain and loss in both Sherlock and John's voices when they told Rosie what had happened had left her breathless with empathy for them. She was leaning against the wall still listening, proud of her boys; 'And when did that happen?' She wondered as she stripped off the gown, when they'd admitted to Rosie that they'd been trying to confess their feelings to her and her heart had stopped for a moment.

'Oh God… what am I gonna do? Were they serious? Or was it just something they said to pacify Rosie, if that's what it was they really don't know their girl, she'll be relentless.' Lyssa changed into a pair of jeans and a snug top then wondered what she was even doing.

She sat down on the bed her dress bunched in her lap as she replayed their words over in her mind. She grabbed a pillow off the bed and covered her face muffling her disgruntled mutters before throwing it at the door where it landed on the floor. "What the hell am I gonna do?" She muttered and looked around the room, she jumped as a picture frame fell off its peg, disturbed by the impact of the pillow on the wall and clattered to the floor.

Getting up and letting her dress slither to the floor she picked up the frame and turned it over looking at the picture. It was one of the rare pictures she was in, She was sitting on the couch with Rosie in her lap reading a book, John was leaning over the back of the couch smiling and Sherlock was off to her right near the window holding his violin but it hung from one hand as he looked over at them a small smile curving his lips. Mrs. Hudson had taken the picture exclaiming that it was the perfect family portrait.

Lyssa bit her lower lip and hung the picture back on the wall her fingers trailing over the glass, she could hear John and Sherlock moving around in the flat and sighed again, 'so much for sneaking out.'

She looked over her shoulder and felt a small smile quirk her lips seeing the window and the fire escape. "Takes me back to being 16." She whispered and grabbed a pen and a sticky note from her desk. 'I'll be back.' She scribbled and opened the window. She hastily stuffed her phone and some money in her pocket and sticking the note to the inside of the window she slipped out and lowered it behind her. She didn't really have a destination in mind as she hurried down the fire escape and walked down the alley to the street.

She found herself in the park and sat down on one of the benches pulling out her phone. She checked the time and pulled up her text screen.

 _'_ _Hey Dad, are you and mom still up?'_

The response was faster than she expected. _'Yeah honey, something wrong?'_

 _'_ _No… Not really…'_

'Uh huh. Try again.'

She smiled a little and typed quickly. _'Sooooo I overheard Sherlock and John talking to Rosie and they told her they both love me but they don't know how to tell me or if I even love them back.'_

She watched pedestrians amble by while she waited for the reply. _'Do you?'_

 _'_ _That's not exactly the question I was expecting.'_

 _'_ _Then you haven't been paying attention.'_

She flicked through her photos while she considered how to answer the question, She was actually in a few of these. She smiled at the picture of Sherlock trying to teach her to play the violin, that had been a disaster that left her laughing and Sherlock frustrated. Another photo showed her and John having a cup of tea at the table with Rosie between them, she'd woken them really early and neither of them was quite all the way awake, Sherlock had taken that one. Her phone chimed with her text tone, her moms number. _'Do you love them?'_

She typed the first thing that popped into her head. _'Which one?'_

 _'_ _That's not what I asked.'_

She blinked and reread the text before she flicked through her photos again. She smiled at the pictures of John and Rosie playing on the floor, the pictures of Sherlock and Rosie mixing chemicals from her Jr. Chemistry set. Picture after picture scrolled by of both men with Rosie and a few with her and John, or her and Sherlock. She pulled up the text screen and typed before she could change her mind. _'Yeah, I love them both.'_

 _'_ _So what's the problem?'_

 _'_ _Are you really telling me to start a poly relationship?'_

 _'_ _No, we're just asking you questions so you can decide what to do.'_

 _'_ _Did dad mean what he said at Christmas? That you guys would be ok with whatever I decide to do?'_

 _'_ _Of course he did. No go tell those poor boys you love them before they get a complex.'_

Lyssa chuckled and stood up stuffing her phone back in her pocket. She wasn't 100% sure what she was going to do when she got home but one thing was sure. She loved them both and the idea of having to choose was enough to make her break out in flop sweat. She hailed a cab home but stood on the sidewalk looking up at the windows for a few minutes wondering what she was going to walk in to find. Would she find Sherlock trying to sooth his overactive mind with music or an experiment? Would John be typing on his blog while Rosie played or watched the telly? Would they pretend nothing had happened or would they rush her for an answer? She took a deep breath. 'It's like being on stage, fake it until the nerves settle.'

She opened the door and walked up to the flat and let herself in. She opened the door to a scene of utter bedlam, Sherlock and John were cleaning up what looked like smoothie spatter from the floor, the walls and the ceiling. Rosie was sitting on the counter literally dripping pureed fruit and yogurt while John and Sherlock were speckled generously. She grinned and covered her mouth as the men looked over at her. She walked towards them eyeing the carnage, she started laughing and used a finger to wipe a spot of yogurt off John's cheek. Sherlock stood totally still watching her with a faintly panicked look on his face. She reached up and used her thumb to wipe smoothie off Sherlock's nose then looked at Rosie still laughing, John relaxed and started laughing with her and after a moment Sherlock added his own baritone chuckles to the laughter and Rosie's high giggle threaded through the happy sounds. "Go get changed you two and take Rosie to get a bath. I'll clean this up."

They did as she asked and less than half an hour later they were all standing back in the kitchen while Lyssa started making a fresh smoothie. She put the lid on the blender but hesitated to push the button. Sherlock and John were sitting at the table while John brushed Rosie's hair. She turned and leaned against the counter. "I do love you both you know." She said quietly and the pronouncement fell into the quiet kitchen with the force of a nuclear bomb changing the landscape of their lives.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "Platonically or…" He let the question trail off afraid to finish it.

Lyssa walked over to them and took one of their hands in each of hers. She stood between them holding their hands. "I have spent three years living with you both, raising your amazing daughter, I have had the incredible privilege of being welcomed into your home and the life you've built here." She took a deep breath and knew the next words would define every single moment that followed. "I cannot imagine loving just one of you. I can't just love only one of you. You've always been a unit to me. John and Sherlock, Sherlock and John, you're not whole without each other and I wouldn't be whole without the both of you… And I don't know how to do this. Any of it. I just know I love you both with all my heart."

She closed her eyes her breath shaking as she held their hands. She felt them both stand up and her eyes flew open when they each wrapped an arm around her. She looked up at them both, the wild, exaltant grins on their faces matched and she felt her heart skip a beat. Sherlock cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her stunned lips then John turned her face and did the same. "Everything else is details love. We're good at details." Sherlock murmured in her ear.

She gasped and laughed hugging them both tightly to her. She staggered when Rosie flew into her legs squeezing tightly and she looked down at the girl. "Does this mean you get to be my mommy?"

John scooped up his daughter and she wrapped her arms around Lyssa's neck as Lyssa kissed her cheek. "I think it does Rosie."

She stood surrounded by her strange little family, the two men who loved her that she loved in return holding the child she loved like her own and couldn't give a damn about what anyone else would think. After all, everything else was just details and they were good at details.


End file.
